Good Things In Life Are Hard To Find
by Esca Madeline
Summary: Sequel to The Only Answer. Seth was like a bad drink with a good aftertaste. That's what Max thought, anyway. Rated for later chapters. Slash.
1. Aftermath of the Mayhem

Disclaimer: Bully is owned by Rockstar.

A/N: I decided to make this a first person narrative from Max's point of view. This type of writing is a change from my usual style, but I think this is more effective than simply writing in third person. Also, instead of writing an ultra long one-shot, I decided to make this a multi-chaptered story.

Detailed slash between Max and Seth later on, but there's some light slash at present. Light spoilers for the "Complete Mayhem" mission.

**Episode One: Aftermath of the Mayhem**

I don't like it when people ask about my whereabouts during the Bullworth riots. If it's an adult or one of my peers asking the question, I'd usually try to change the subject as politely as I could, all the while laughing and shrugging off the matter as if it's something insignificant. However, if it's a younger student, I'd snap at him or her to shut up and get to class.

It's a sensitive, not to mention _embarrassing_, subject to me. No matter how many times Kit Bassinet reminds me that the riots were Gary Smith's fault and not mine, I still feel that I'm partially to blame. I'm a prefect after all, and it's my damn duty to protect the school. This was probably the one time I could have shown that I was a capable protector, and yet I let the academy fall to ruins.

Yeah, that'll look _so_ good on my resume.

What's worse, I was the most unscathed out of the four prefects. I look like Brad Pitt compared to the other guys at this point. But do you realize how bad that looks on my part? People are probably thinking I was hiding under my bed like a coward, instead of fighting the riots with the others.

I shouldn't complain. Considering that I only got a black eye, a backache, and one gigantic bruise on my stomach, I got off pretty light in terms of beatings. Karl, on the other hand, had been roughed up by the Jocks before they hogtied him, gagged him, and left him in the middle of the football field to drown in the rain. I don't think those welts on his ankles and wrists are going away anytime soon, and he caught a three-day-long cold from being in the rain too long.

But you know…even that snob Edward ended up with more battle scars than me. After things calmed down, some Townie kids found him unconscious in the auto shop with Neil. Apparently the Greasers had ganged up on him while he had been trying to cool an argument between two other students, and as strong as Edward is, he's no match for six weapon-wielding Greasers. After the punks had beaten him up, they finished the job by smashing a _full _beer bottle on the back of his head. He had to get some stitches for the bleeding gash that came from that hit, and he complained about the following pain for _weeks_.

I don't care about them, though. Seth is the one that I'm really worried about.

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I guess it's because I was actually with him at the time.

Seth and I were in the school building at the time of the riots, protecting our then Head Boy, Gary Smith. He told us, from Ms. Danvers's desk, that the Headmaster was in his office and was not to be disturbed. At the same time, Seth and I were to patrol the building and keep out intruders at all costs.

Was I suspicious? Yes. Did I do anything about my suspicion? No. I never had the chance to. I deduced that Dr. Crabblesnitch _had_ to come out of his office sooner or later, at which point I would question him about Smith's less-than-logical antics.

I waited. One hour became two. Then three. Then four.

The Headmaster never came out. I grew worried.

That's where Jimmy Hopkins comes in.

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I personally don't like Jimmy Hopkins. The guy's an asshole to the max, with his blunt tongue and his total disregard for the rules. Don't look at me like that. I'm a prefect, after all, and it's my job to chase after troublemaking hoodlums like Hopkins.

On a ratio, I can proudly say that I manage to catch nine out of every ten people I go after. Unfortunately, Jimmy Hopkins falls under the "one out of ten people who escape my wrath" category. I just can't catch him—that kid seems to have an infinite amount of stamina, and while that's a good thing for the girl or guy he fucks, it's a pain in the ass for me, because that means he can run for miles without getting tired. To date, Seth is the only one who can bust him, but even then the bastard manages to get away half the time.

I can't see why _anyone _would like Hopkins, but for some reason, he seems to be a hit with the girls and the Bullies. I even caught him making out with Trent Northwick once, but I didn't say anything to them. Heck, I actually stared at them until they finished their little game of tongue hockey. The sight of two boys being that intimate with one another was…_strange_. I don't know why I stared so long.

But you know, I should have also remembered that Hopkins was particularly close with Russell Northrop. If I had, Seth wouldn't be in the hospital now.

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Seth slammed Hopkins to the ground easily—the kid hadn't realized we were behind him, and by the time he did, Seth already had a good grip on his neck. I stood on the sidelines, smirking as Seth rid the boy of all available weaponry.

Damn. Just how many pockets did Hopkins have? He had firecrackers, itching powder, a bag of marbles, a rubber band ball, and…was that a spudgun? Good grief. As Seth wretched the final weapon—an impressive looking slingshot—from Jimmy's hands, a loud roar suddenly rang through the lobby, the sound so startling that the three of us nearly jumped out of our skins.

"NOOOOOO!!!! GET OFF MY LITTLE BUDDY!!!! NUUAAAAH!!!!"

I turned around, and felt the blood drain from my face when I saw a very pissed off Russell Northrop standing just a few feet away from me. I noticed that there were a few bruises on his face, and that he was breathing very heavily from fatigue, but that only served to make him look even more menacing than before, like some sort of injured animal that only became more dangerous when wounded.

Did I mention that Russell Northrop was also one of the few who fell under the "one out of ten people who escape my wrath" category? No? Well, now you know. Not even Seth has the balls to take him down unless Karl, me, and Edward are with him. Yes, it takes all four of us to bring Northrop down, and even _then_ success isn't guaranteed. Don't rub it in.

Russell began screaming again, and this time he also started _beating_ at his chest like some sort of gorilla. Though I was strong in my own right, this primitive display of strength actually scared the shit out of me. Scared the hell out of Seth too. I don't think I've ever seen him so terrified before in his life.

Knowing we were outmatched, we both turned tail and ran for it just as Russell swung one of his massive fists at me. At our retreat, that retarded, hulking excuse for a human being began to chase us, all the while screaming, "SLOW DOWN SO RUSSELL CAN SMASH YOU!"

We heard the speakers go off, but I didn't pay attention as to what was said or even as to who was speaking. The feeling of Russell breathing down the back of my neck was more overpowering in both the physical and mental sense, and all I could think of was how to escape the Bully leader in one piece.

Suddenly, I felt something hard and unbearably painful slam into the small of my back. Thick arms wrapped themselves tightly around my middle, and a great weight forced me to crashed face-first into the cold, dirty tiles as Russell tackled me to the floor.

Immediately I felt gravity do its work. Three hundred pounds of muscle, all focused on my back as Russell quite literally _sat_ on me…that was a torture beyond anything I could imagine. I felt the air deflate forcibly from my lungs, and a pain shot through my chest as it tried to expand, but couldn't. I twisted my head around and tried to get Russell's attention as I gasped and slapped at the floor in agony, but the Bully wasn't looking at me. Instead, he had grabbed both my legs and was pulling at them so hard that I thought he was going to rip my limbs off…

"Get off him, evildoer!"

I heard—and felt—a thud from above me, and a second later Russell was off my back. I immediately gasped in air by large gulps, my lungs quickly expanding and taking in the fresh oxygen. My legs fell limply to the ground, my thighs and kneecaps aching with pain. I think he stretched them an inch or two…

A loud "Oooof!" brought me back to Earth. I looked up, and my jaw hit the floor when I saw Russell holding Seth in the air by the waist, only to slam him into the ground a second later with a heavy powerbomb. The large boy then made a move to kick him, but Seth quickly recovered and rolled away as a massive foot smashed the floor where his head had been seconds ago. Years of training had made him the strongest of the prefects, and Seth was back on his feet in seconds, his fists up and ready to fight.

I wasn't about to let Seth take on Russell alone. Using strength I didn't even know I had, I forced myself to stand and joined Seth by his side, my body poised in a boxer's stance. My presence seemed to confuse Russell—his eyes went from me, to Seth, then back to me again, as if he couldn't decide which of us he wanted to fight first.

I decided for him.

I leapt forward and punched him hard in the gut, taking the gargantuan boy completely by surprise. Russell gasped and doubled over, an opportunity I used to deliver a one-two combination to his jaw. The Bully leader reeled back for a moment, stunned, and I tried to keep up the assault by throwing an uppercut at him. But he recovered quickly—Russell blocked my uppercut, and countered by driving his fist hard into my stomach.

"Aaah…!" That knocked all the wind out of me, and I backed off as I clutched at my stomach. However, Russell followed on his attack by joining his hands—each the size of baseball gloves—together, and swung them down hard, clubbing the top my head.

It was like getting hit with a truck. I collapsed to the floor in a heap, my eyes dazed and my body no longer listening to my mental demands for it to get up. My vision became hazy…I think I had a concussion, which was lucky. Any weaker student would have been knocked unconscious, or had his head smashed in.

Through my blurry vision, I saw Seth jump Russell from behind, his arms wrapped all around the Bully's thick neck. Seth tightened his arms, and Russell began to roar as he tried to get the prefect off of his back. He threw backward blows at Seth, but he only occasionally hit the other boy's face. Seth, despite the blows and his new black eye, continued to choke Russell until I saw the Bully's face turn red.

At least, I thought it was his face that turned red. It was either that, or I was dreaming of a giant tomato due to my half conscious state. Seth always did like tomatoes…

Suddenly, Russell began to run _backwards_. At this point, I was slowly coming to, and I managed to get half my body off the floor when Russell slammed his back—and consequently Seth—against a nearby wall. Seth let out a grunt of pain, but he held on, continuing to choke Russell. His face now slowly turning purple, Russell slammed his back against the wall again, harder this time, and Seth, shaken by the sheer force of the blow, accidentally loosened his grip for a second.

That second was more than enough. Russell managed to catch his breath, and he now reached behind him, grabbed Seth by the leg, and yanked him off of his neck. With some effort, Russell swung Seth around in the air like a lasso, finishing the trick by swinging the head prefect right into the wall, where the plaster cracked from the force and weight of Seth's swinging body. My eyes widened with horror when I saw my friend slump to the floor. His eyes were closed, and a trail of blood was dribbling from the corner of his mouth.

"Seth!" I had had enough! Now fully mobile, I ran at Russell like a wild animal, determined to get him away from Seth. But what I didn't know was that he had also had enough of me—the minute he saw me coming, he threw a punch straight at my face. I was too anger-driven to dodge, and my jaw paid dearly for my actions. I stumbled, seeing stars, and Russell took the chance to stuff me in a nearby locker.

The bastard even locked the door! He was smarter than he let on, I'll tell you that!

"Let me out!" I pounded hard at the locker door, kicking at the bottom with all my strength. However, the metal wouldn't budge. "Damn it, Northrop! Let me out, or I swear there will be consequences! HEY! _Leave him alone!_"

Russell had once again turned his attention to Seth, who was awake. He was stumbling to get to his feet, but even through the small openings of the locker door I could see that he was trying to quit. He was leaning against the wall, shaking his head as he tried to clear his vision.

"All right," Seth mumbled. "Enough…"

But Russell was past hearing Seth. He was past anything. He was in a place where rules no longer applied, and in his mind, Seth was a prey that had to be finished. I saw this, but Seth didn't.

"SETH!" I screamed from my prison. "RUN, DAMN YOU! RUN!"

He turned in my direction, but by then it was too late. Russell struck him in the face, in his good eye, and Seth was now blinded. I could only watch helplessly as Seth tried to cover his face, but Russell then hit his stomach repeatedly, forcing the air out of his diaphragm so that he couldn't even breathe.

"STOP IT! NORTHROP, STOP!"

Seth crouched over, all the fight gone out of him as he tried to protect his body. However, the back of his head was exposed, and Russell clubbed him there, using joined hands just as he did with me. The Bully pounded at his head until Seth was on his hands and knees, his nose bleeding heavily, his face covered in bruises. Russell kicked him in the side, but Seth wouldn't go down, not completely. Something in him just wouldn't give up, though I can't help but think that it would have been better if he had.

Russell then grabbed the back of Seth's head and, without warning, slammed it against the floor. There was a sharp crack, and this time Seth flat out _screamed_. However, Russell smashed his head against the floor again and again, until thick blotches of blood began to appear on the tiles. I pounded furiously at my metal prison, but I couldn't escape.

All I could do was scream.

"NORTHROP! STOP! YOU'RE GOING TO KILL HIM! _SETH_! _**SETH**_!"

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Forgive me. I shouldn't be so bitter about this, as it's now in the past and nothing can be done to change it, but I can't help but—but—

Calm. I have to stay calm.

Seth's injuries were too much to list, too much to remember. All I can say is that when I finally got out of that damn locker, all I saw was his battered, unconscious body laying just a few feet away from me. I had screamed, fallen to my knees, and clutched at his limp form while hopelessly dialing for an ambulance.

Typical. There were firefighters outside, police outside, but no ambulance. Seth almost bled to death before those damn paramedics showed up, and they forcibly tore me away from his body as they placed him inside the ambulance, telling me to stay behind at school while they took him away.

I had to be with him. He was my fucking friend, for crying out loud! It was my fault that he ended up half dead, and I'd be damned if they kept me away from him now!

Oh, but _Edward_ got to go along. He needed stitches on his head, remember? Well, he didn't even care about Seth—when he returned from the hospital, all he did was moan and whine about his own injuries.

"It's simply _terrible_!" Edward complained, touching the stitches on his head gingerly. "I can actually _feel_ the thread! I swear, those doctors in town are simply mediocre! They don't know how to take care of a person's looks!"

"What about Seth?" I asked impatiently. "Is he okay? How long is he going to be in the hospital?"

"Huh?" Edward blinked at me stupidly, before his mouth formed a small "o" of recognition. "Oh! You mean Kolbe? The doctors said that he was in critical condition in the beginning, but they stabilized him…or something like that. " Edward waved his hand in the air carelessly, as if the matter was trivial.

Trivial! I should bash his head in!

"Is he awake?" I pressed on, forcing myself to remain calm. "How long does he have to stay in the hospital?"

"Oh I don't know!" Edward snapped, his patience wearing thin. "Do I look like a doctor to you?"

I couldn't believe him. Out of all of my friends, I liked him the least, but I never thought he would be so—so selfish! Prep or not, I thought he was a _little_ better than the rest! "He's our friend!" I cried, grabbing him by the collar and shaking him. "Damn it, don't you care? He almost died! HE ALMOST DIED!"

"_I_ almost died!" Edward retorted. He pointed at his stitches, still fresh and glistening with blood. "It hurts like hell, and it's still bleeding, for crying out loud! Don't you care about _me_?"

"Would you two stop your bickering?!" Karl snapped from his desk. "I'm trying to study here!"

Edward and I immediately fell silent. Woe betides the unfortunate fool who disturbed Karl Branting during one of his study sessions for law school.

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I always freak out when I'm in a hospital. I don't know why. It's just something about just _knowing_ that there are sick people all around you, that some are probably dying, that some are probably having their bodies cut open while doctors rummage around their insides…

Okay. I need to stop grossing myself out.

Seeing as it's the last week of spring classes, everyone at Bullworth is restless. However, with Jimmy Hopkins reenrolled in the academy and the appointing of Peter Kowalski as the new Head Boy, things have been rather…quiet around campus. No major fights like the old days, at any rate.

With those facts in mind, I managed to convince Karl to cover my patrol shifts while I went off to the town hospital. He wasn't happy; we were already short one man, and me being absent wouldn't help matters. However, after promising that I would take his night shift, he agreed.

Before going to the hospital, I brought several burgers (no onions, Seth hates onions) and a few sodas. My dad, during his police force days, had been in and out of the hospital like clockwork, and he always complained to me and mom that the food was horrible.

The thing is, my dad had nerves of steel. If _he_ complained, imagine what Seth must be going through!

Unfortunately, the hospital staff wouldn't let me see him. "His condition is stable," the nurse said, giving me a kind stare. "However, he's still not well enough to receive visitors. I'm sorry."

I was angry, but I couldn't blame her. I remembered how fucked over Seth was after the fight.

I was about to leave when another voice spoke out from behind me. "Oh, let him go, Nurse Rae. It couldn't hurt. The boy's awake now, and he's been asking if anyone came by to see him." I turned around to see middle-aged woman in a white lab coat walk towards me, looking rather exhausted but happy. She looked at me over her half-moon spectacles, and gave me a smile. "Are you a friend, sweetheart?"

I nodded. "Is Seth okay?"

"Why don't you go see for yourself, honey? He's in the second room to the right. Oh, and if you can, tell him to please put on a hospital gown. He's making some of my younger nurses very uncomfortable. And horny," she added as an afterthought.

Heat rushed to my face, and I tried to push the inappropriate images out of my head. "T-thank you."

I walked past the doctor and nurse and headed towards the mentioned door. My heart pounded within my chest. How would he look? Would he be mad at me, for being so pathetic in the fight? Does he even want to talk to me? I stopped in front of the door, my hand inches away from the knob.

I was afraid to face him.

I stood like that for…I don't know how long. I must have looked pretty pathetic, though. People passing by gave me strange stares, and one young nurse even asked me if I was alright. I simply nodded, and she went (nervously) on her way.

I had half-decided to run away and face him later when a slightly nasal, yet very demanding voice shouted out, "Are you gonna stand there all day, MacTavish, or do I have to drag you in here myself?"

Damn. He had seen me.

I still couldn't bring myself to open the door.

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When I still wouldn't come in, Seth had yelled at me to "get my ass in the room" in such a loud voice that half the patients on the floor woke up screaming. When angry heads started poking out of their rooms to see who the troublemaker was, I ran inside Seth's room as fast as I could and shut the door.

And then I nearly had a nosebleed. As the doctor said, my friend wasn't wearing the hospital gown…nor was he wearing any undergarments. Thus, his well-endowed manhood was swinging in full view, exposed to the world in all its glory.

Oh god, did I just use the word _glory_?

I managed to avoid having the nosebleed, but it was very stressful to have to keep your eyes focused on only your friend's face. I told him to at least cover the "indecent" areas, which he carelessly did by throwing a sheet over his lap.

And to think, this guy was once a Nerd.

"How'd you know it was me?" I asked, pulling up a chair besides his bed. "I planned to surprise you."

Seth gave me a grin and pointed to a small window that had somehow eluded my observations. "Saw you walk by," he said, shifting his naked body so that he was in a sitting position. I noted that his voice was more nasal than usual. "So naturally, I waited for you to come in. But when no one came through the door for twenty minutes, I figured you either dropped dead somewhere in the hospital…or was just standing at the door like an idiot."

Idiot! "Oh ha ha. Very funny." I gave him an annoyed stare, which only made him laugh.

It was then I really studied his face. He seemed better. The bruises weren't as dark as I remembered, and he wasn't bleeding from his head anymore. However, his cranium was wrapped with layers of white bandages, and his nose was packed with gauze and bandaged—it was clearly broken, and explained why he sounded more nasal.

Still, anything was an improvement from the crumpled wreck I saw on the floor during the riots.

"Hey. You gonna stare at me all day, or are we gonna talk?"

"Huh? Oh. Sorry." I hadn't realized I'd been staring. I coughed nervously; he probably thought I was turning lavender on him, or something. I held up the bag of burgers, and gave him a small smile. "I brought you these. Thought you'd like something other than hospital food."

He raised a brow. "You didn't make this yourself, did you?" I frowned—I had tried cooking once before. Once, and only during Christmas! It was beef stew, and I had made it all by myself. I don't know what the hell happened, but somehow Seth and my entire family ended up with a stomach virus.

I was on the verge of tossing the burgers in the trash when Seth leaned forward and sniffed the bag. His eyes suddenly lit up, and in a second, he snatched the bag out of my hands, taking out a burger and ripping the aluminum wrapper off ravenously with his teeth. He bit down into the meat patty, making loud, lip-smacking noises of pleasure.

I stared. To hell with politeness—I've never seen _anyone_ eat like this before, not even when Edna had gone on vacation and another, much better cook, took her place for a while. Either Seth had given up on manners, or the food sucked so much that it drove its poor inhabitants to an animalistic state.

And yet, since this is still Seth, _my_ Seth, I decided to let it go. My old man always ate large meals after his trips to the hospital anyway. This was normal.

In a few minutes, all seven burgers had vanished down Seth's throat. He lay back on his bed, panting, with crumbs all over his naked, muscular body. And yet he looked very, very happy. "Oh god," he whispered. "I really needed that…" He looked at the bag, now empty with the exception of two soda cans. "Crap. Max, I'm sorry. I didn't leave you one."

"It's okay," I said quickly, ignoring hungry protests that my stomach made. I reached out and gently touched his hand. I felt him flinch, but he didn't jerk it away. "Is this place really that bad?" I asked. "How much longer do you have to stay here?"

Seth sighed, and closed his eyes. "Another week, maybe," he answered. "Four days, if I'm lucky. You will come back and visit, won't you?" His hand suddenly gripped mine, and he gave me an almost panicked look before he caught himself. He pulled his hand away and coughed lightly. "Don't think I'm turning soft," he said gruffly, some of his old self returning in his voice. "It's just that I'm so damn_ bored_ here. And between you, Karl, and Ed…I prefer you. You're not as pissy as they are."

I saw through his charade. I didn't hold it against him. I knew him too well. "I'll come back. And hey…you'll be out in time for graduation. Edward said that he's having a celebration on his parent's yacht. He wants you to come if you can."

"Feh. Ed's a dick." Still, Seth's lips curved into a genuine smile.

Memories then surfaced through my mind, ones of when we were younger, and ones from the riots. I dropped my gaze and stared at my hands, which were clenched and resting on my knees.

"Hey." Seth reached out and touched my shoulder. "You okay?"

My hands shook slightly. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"You know. For you being here. For you getting beaten by Northrop."

"That?" Seth blinked at me, before he frowned and slapped me upside the head.

"OW!" I rubbed the sore spot, and stared at my friend incredulously. "What the fuck…?"

"That wasn't your fault, stupid!" Seth snapped. "Geez! I leave you alone for a while and you turn all soft on me!" He grabbed my shoulders and forced me to face him. "Look," he growled. "We both know that Northrop's a retarded evildoer. We've known that for years. If anything, I shouldn't have tried to fight him in the first place."

"But—"

"But nothing! Now, I don't want to hear any more of this emo shit coming out of your mouth! I'll hang around Constantinos Brakus if I want to feel depressed, got it?"

I didn't answer. Seth growled at my silence and shook me hard, his face coming closer to mine in an intimidating manner.

"I'm asking you a question, MacTavish! Answer me!"

He shook me harder, almost until my head was about to come off. Finally, I yelled through the shakes, "O-okay! I g-g-got it!"

He stopped shaking me, and it took a while for the room to stop spinning. I had to blink several times before the feeling of nausea went away. "Good," I heard him say, and I felt him pat the side of my face gently.

It was then I realized how physically close we were to each other.

There was nothing really wrong with our position. That's what I kept telling myself, anyway. He was basically trying to snap me out of a depression fit. One of his hands was on my shoulders, while his other hand was gently patting my face. We were friends. So what if he happened to be naked? So what if our bodies were just inches apart from one another? So what if his sheet happened to fall off, and his manhood was just a few inches from touching my thigh—

I had to get out of there.

I stood up suddenly, almost knocking him backwards in the bed. "I gotta go," I said stiffly. "I promised Karl I'd take his night shift if he covered for me."

I left Seth alone. I didn't look back, because I was afraid he might call out for me to stay.

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	2. Avoidance

Disclaimer: Bully is owned by Rockstar.

A/N: This is where Max is trying to deal with his confusion. Also introduces the secondary pairing for him. More direct slash next chapter.

**Episode Two: Avoidance**

It's a terrifying feeling when you're unsure about yourself, when you start questioning an emotion that is natural to others but has never quite seemed normal for you. I've tried explaining to myself why I never interested myself with that many girls, why I kept myself distant from most of the other students. But many of my self-theories made absolutely no sense at all, and the few that did scared the shit out of me.

I can't say it. I can't accept it. So I decided to just stop thinking altogether.

I kept myself busy by juggling extra patrol shifts while studying for final exams. It was unbelievable—I became so packed down with responsibilities and duties that I barely had even five minutes to myself.

But that was exactly what I wanted. If I was busy, then I couldn't think. If I couldn't think, then I wouldn't have to worry about Seth _that_ way. If I didn't have to worry about Seth _that_ way, then I wouldn't have to face what happened back there in the hospital room.

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During the next couple of days, I ended up taking all of Seth's shifts along with my own despite Karl offering to share the hours with me. (I noted that Edward never offered to take Seth's hours even once, the bastard.) After patrolling, I would either go to class or head off to the library to study. I ate little and spoke even less. That week, I ended up catching fourteen troublemakers, lost eight pounds, and earned A's in almost all of my exams. (I received a C+ for Math. I regret taking the advanced course…calculus is a pain.)

What can I say? I was a busy little prefect. I simply had no time to socialize anymore, not even with Karl and Edward.

As a result of my increasingly busy schedule, my hospital visits became shorter, more formal, and more routine. If Seth noticed, he didn't comment on it. At every visit he smiled and greeted me as if nothing was wrong, and would then ask about the current situation at Bullworth.

"Gary Smith's been admitted to the asylum," I told him during my third visit. "As long as he's clinically insane, he can't come near the school."

Seth smiled bitterly at the news. "Good," he muttered. "That lying snake deserves it. I hope he rots there."

"So does the rest of the school. But…"

"But…?"

I frowned. "Jimmy Hopkins and our new Head Boy, Peter Kowalski, make it a habit to visit Smith at least once a week. It's almost like clockwork, though I don't know why."

"Max, haven't I taught you anything?" Seth snapped.

"Eh?" I though for a minute, before I nonchalantly shrugged. "No, not really."

"Bah!" Seth slapped a hand to his forehead, before he turned to me in annoyance. "Listen you little smart ass. Like flocks to like. It's the fundamental rule of social interaction. Smith was an insane evildoer, and Jimmy Hopkins is a screwed up evildoer. Evildoers attract evildoers, end of story."

I raised a brow. "What about Peter Kowalski? His record's clean."

"Is he friends with them?" Seth asked.

"Yes…"

"Then he's an evildoer too! Max, make sure you keep an eye on him! He and Hopkins might try to break Smith out of the nut house, or something!"

I spotted a wild gleam in his eye, a gleam that I usually saw when he was chasing after some punk at the academy. That gleam, coupled with the fact that he was still naked, made me uncomfortable. "Seth, I have to go."

"Already?" The gleam suddenly faded as he gave me a crushed look. "But you just got here."

"Sorry. I have to study for that History final. You're lucky though…you're exempt from the exams." With that, I gave him a quick nod before leaving the room.

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He's getting better, you know. Each time I see him, his bruises are less noticeable, his head is less bandaged, and his voice sounds less nasal—a sign that the hospital staff finally removed the damn gauze from his nose. He's also moving around more and more, just to prove to me that he's ready to get back on his feet. During my last visit he absolutely refused to lie down on the bed, choosing instead to lean against the wall and talk to me while standing.

"You're a stubborn asshole," I finally said to him in frustration. "You're gonna work yourself into exhaustion. The doctor's gonna kill you."

"Feh! At least I'm not a softhearted, rule-abiding stickler like you are," he countered. "Max, loosen up once in a while! You're so tense these days." Without warning he began to massage my shoulders, grinning victoriously when I smacked his hands away angrily, my face flushed.

Yup. The Punishment Prefect is back to his old self.

This isn't good for me. Nope, not good at all.

There's something I forgot to mention. Seth is no longer parading around in the nude. I think he realized from the third visit that his nakedness made me uncomfortable, because he started wearing the hospital gown from the fourth visit onward.

Though I appreciated his gesture, this honestly didn't make me feel any better. I've come to terms with the fact (and only this fact, mind you) that it wasn't just his being naked that bothered me. It was simply him being _near_ me, his body being so close to mine that I could actually feel the heat coming off of his form. Believe it or not, I now flush whenever we come into close contact and—to my horror—warmth uncomfortably floods the lower regions of my body at the worst possible moments.

Thankfully I always wear loose pants to the hospital visits.

It's too much, even if it is just unintentional. But it's still annoying to take cold showers after every visit, just to make that warmth go away. It's hard to sleep now, because I'm afraid as to what I might dream. I almost don't even want to see Seth anymore, because I don't know what the hell's going on in my own mind.

I find it disturbing that Seth could affect me like this. I don't like it one bit.

Do you think I'm a jerk for acting this way? Do you think I'm stupid for trying to avoid this, for trying to avoid Seth? Well, maybe I am. But what would you know? You're not me. You can't see what I see, or feel what I feel. In fact, other than what I'm telling you, you probably don't know squat about my life.

So don't you dare judge me.

-----------

"Where're _you_ going, MacTavish?"

I continued to walk towards the exit of Harrington House, ignoring the sneer in Edward's voice. "Out," I muttered. "I have better things to do than waste my night here."

"But I haven't finished packing yet!" Edward complained, grabbing my arm just as I reached for the knob. With one hand, he motioned to the dozens of possessions that had yet to be placed in his many suitcases, and gave me a look of desperation. "You know we have to be ready to leave by graduation! I can't pack all this by myself, and I don't have any of my servants with me at present!"

"Nice to be compared to domestic help," I replied sarcastically. "It's moments like these that I truly treasure my friendship with you."

"Oh, come on Max!" Edward pleaded. Wow. He's using my first name? He must _really_ be desperate. "I need your help!"

"You have Karl!" I snapped, jerking my head in the direction of my black friend. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Karl struggle to lift a ridiculously large box of expensive boxing equipment. He glanced at me imploringly for help, but I wasn't in the mood to be kind. I shook my head, and he looked away, sighing. "Now, if you'll both excuse me, I'd like to leave this pathetic excuse for a dorm. I have plans."

I watched as a look of displeasure suddenly flashed through Edward's features. I always found it amazing how quickly the Preps can change their moods. I'm not sure if it's due to all that inbreeding, but their emotional states are so fragile and unstable that sometimes I wonder how Edward became a prefect in the first place.

But I'm used to his mood swings and, frankly, I'm not afraid of him. Without even batting an eye, I turned my back to him and resumed my exit of Harrington House.

"At least tell me where you're going!" Edward suddenly yelled, running after me as I stepped out into the cool night air.

"Why the hell do you want to know?" I said, scowling as he stopped in front of me, panting slightly from his sudden sprint. "That's none of your business."

"Yes it is," he insisted, mirroring my scowl with one of his own. "I'd like to know what's so important that you abandon your friends during their time of need. I thought you were better than that, MacTavish."

Abandon? Abandon?! I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from laughing out loud—this is the same guy who hardly gave a damn about Seth's near death experience, and here he was, lecturing _me_ about abandoning friends! That hypocritical drama queen!

Still, I managed to hold in my mirth as I said, as calmly as I could, "I'm meeting Kit at the library. She's printing the last issue of the school newspaper tonight, and I promised I'd edit some articles for her. She happens to be my friend too, and she asked for my help first. So—"

"Good god!" Edward suddenly interrupted, giving me a look of disgust. "You're still going out with that Nerd? What's the matter with you?"

"WHAT?!" My jaw hit the ground. "Going out? She's my friend, you idiot! How many times do I have to tell you that before you get it through your thick head? We're—just—friends!"

Edward snorted. "Feh! No matter how many times you deny it, you can't fool me, MacTavish! No guy in their right mind hangs around an ugly girl like that for as long as _you _have, not unless you two are screwing each other on the side. I bet she even gives you blowjobs."

"You're sick," I spat, before I continued on my way.

I hoped that would be the end of the conversation, but the jerk continued to yell at my retreating back. "I'm sick? I'M SICK? You're the one who's screwed up, MacTavish! You and your damn Messiah Complex!"

I stopped, though I kept my back turned to him. I didn't want to give Edward the satisfaction of knowing that I was slowly becoming mad. Instead, I watched him out of the corner of my eye, and kept my voice calm as I spoke. "Explain yourself."

"There's nothing to explain," he sneered. "You're the one who always wants to save the day, even though you know that chance will never come. You're the one who's obsessed with bringing law and order to this school, even when it's filled with hoodlums who can't be saved. You're the one who befriends the most pathetic students, even when they probably don't give a shit about you. Like _Kit_." He spat the last word out venomously; unaware of how close I was to murdering him. "Then again," he went on, giving me a dirty look "—maybe you get your kicks that way. Maybe you get a _thrill_ when you fuck with broken, desperate, lonely people…"

Before I could stop myself, I grabbed Edward by the collar and slammed him hard against an adjacent wall, forcing a grunt to escape from his lips. "Take it back," I hissed. "Take it back! You son-of-a-bitch! I should—I should—"

I couldn't finish. That last comment, though it was said entirely out of spite, hit a mark within me that I never even knew existed. It shook me to my very core, not because it was a hurtful, cruel comment, but because in a small way…I knew it was true.

And not just in Kit's case.

A sharp pain suddenly shot up my groin, and my legs buckled from under me as all of my senses shut down. I crumpled to the ground, clutching at my most likely mutilated member as Edward stood over me, smiling innocently. "Oops," he said mockingly. "I'm so _sorry_, MacTavish. I didn't mean to hit you _there_…not that there was much to hit."

"That…was cheap!" I gasped, my groin still throbbing.

"Cheap, maybe. But whatever works is fine for me." He then smirked. "Maybe I'll go over to the library. Maybe that geek whore of yours is still in there, waiting to have some _fun_."

That did it. "You…I'LL KILL YOU!" Pushing all thoughts of pain out of my mind, I shot up and tackled Edward straight to the ground. I no longer cared that we were both prefects. I no longer cared that we were supposed to be friends. All I wanted to do was punch every inch of his body that was reachable, until he was nothing more than a pathetic, whimpering wreck…

"MacTavish! MacTavish, get off him!"

"Max! MAX!"

Two pairs of strong hands grabbed me from behind, and dragged me off of a coughing, moaning Edward. I screamed and kicked at the fallen Preppie, but the hands wouldn't let go, wouldn't loosen their grip. Furious, I turned my head to see who my captors were…only to have my mouth drop open when I saw that it was Karl and Seth, who was dressed in civilian clothes instead of the navy blue suit the rest of us were wearing.

He must have just returned from the hospital.

I stopped struggling, and slowly I felt my sanity return to me. "Seth," I mumbled. "You're back…" I heard a moan, and I turned my gaze back to Edward, whose face was covered in bruises. His jaw looked oddly tilted, and he was mumbling words that were unintelligible.

Oh god. What have I done?

Karl, at seeing me return to normal, let go of my arm and rushed over to Edward, helping him. He slung Edward's arm over his shoulder, and said quietly, "Come on. We have to get to the infirmary before Nurse MacRae leaves."

They hobbled away, leaving me with the very shocked, very confused Seth. I looked away, ashamed to face him after that disgraceful display. Suddenly, I felt his hand touch my shoulder, and I had to work hard to keep myself from flinching. "Max," I heard him say softly. "What's going on?"

There was something wrong with my mouth. I couldn't speak. Instead I felt discomfort growing from within me; felt that _warmth_ spread through my body until I felt that I was going to burst.

I never answered him. I simply shook my head, and headed off to the library without looking at him once.

-----------

I should probably take this opportunity to introduce Kit Bassinet.

She's one of the senior Nerds, but to leave it at that would do her injustice. She's also the School Treasurer, a library aide, and one of the most intelligent women I've ever known. Math, Science, English…you name it, she'll pass it. She has a beautiful mind, a beautiful heart, and a beautiful grade point average.

A perfect 4.0, a feat only Earnest Jones and Cornelius Thomas have been able to match to this day.

I met her when I was thirteen, the period when Seth, Karl, and Edward still considered me to be a weakling. Our first introduction was a painful one; I had accidentally bumped into her as she was coming out of the library, and had knocked her—and her large pile of books—straight to the ground. I apologized by helping her up and carrying her books all the way back to the Girls' Dorm.

We became friends shortly after that. The reason, she told me, was that when I carried her books back for her, she had found my politeness to be downright unnerving while undeniably charming at the same time. There was a shortage of chivalrous men in the world, and she wanted to keep me near her.

Strange as her explanation was, I actually didn't mind. I spent a lot of time with her back then, and I got used to her quirks. We had many study sessions together and we learned a lot from each other—me in terms of academics, her in terms of general life.

I don't think I would have passed Math without her, and I don't think she would have enjoyed Bullworth as much if I hadn't been there. As I gained strength and intelligence throughout the years, the more powerful cliques learned to stay away from me and, consequently, her.

It's a shame that she's so plain. She looks just like a little mouse, one who's wearing too-thick glasses while dressed in a white-and-green girls' uniform. I feel bad for her, particularly because I had met her parents, and found the two of them to be very handsome people.

Unfortunately, Kit seems to have inherited the worst features of both parents. She had her father's large dark eyes, but they were set too far apart. These eyes were framed by her mother's lashes, lashes that were so short and pale that they appeared not to be there at all. Her nose was straight but sharp. Her mouth was wide, like her mother's, but her lips were thin like her father's. Her hair wasn't the dark brown like her mother's or blond like her father's. Instead, it was a muddled mix of the two—a limp brown referred to as mousy.

Again, I say this to you. It's a real shame she's so plain.

However, she also inherited her father's kind heart and her mother's sharp intelligence, a combination most people lacked. I think this more than makes up for her lack of beauty, and this is why she's one of the few friends I plan to stay in contact with for the rest of my life.

When I was fourteen, some of the other students pegged us as a couple. Despite the two of us heavily denying it, the rumor spread through the school like wildfire. Edward poked fun at me for weeks, because I was "in love a geek."

"So Max," he had asked, "did she pay you to be her love toy? I mean, she _had_ to, right? Why else would a guy like you hang around an ugly tramp like her?"

I don't remember answering him. All I remembered was that I sucker punched him in the nose, and that he ran off to Harrington House, screaming.

I guess some things never change.

There's one other thing I forgot to mention. During the time when the rumors were still circulating about me and Kit, Seth had become very distant towards me. He became distant towards Kit too, which was really strange—they were friends due to them both being Nerds (or in Seth's case, ex-Nerd), and they were frequently partners in Chemistry class.

It was really strange. He wouldn't speak to me much, and whenever he saw me and Kit together, he'd get all sour and stomp off. Stranger still; when I finally managed to squash the rumors, Seth suddenly warmed up to me again.

Probably just coincidence.

-----------

Kit's eyes widened to the size of saucers when she saw me. "Maxwell! Are you alright?"

I jerkily walked towards a desk, waving off Kit's attempts to help me. I sat down carefully—my groin still felt as if it was mutilated, but I severely doubted that Kit would be able to help me with that problem. At any rate, if I wanted a doctor-to-be to look at my injury, I'd go to Beatrice Trudeau. Isn't she always blabbing about becoming a doctor, or something?

"What happened?" Kit asked me, still not satisfied with my silent response. "Did you get into a fight? Your right cheek is red."

It was?

I touched my cheek and, sure enough, it began to sting. I hissed in pain, my groin suddenly less important now. Edward must have thrown a punch somewhere in between my flurry of hits. That bastard… "It's okay," I mumbled, turning my face to the side so that Kit couldn't see the wound. "I had an argument with some Jocks. One of them smacked me when I wasn't looking, those scuzzbuckets."

"Oh!" A look of worry overcame Kit's features. "Maxwell, you should really be more careful! You might be a prefect, but the Jocks are some of the strongest people in the school!"

I snorted and leaned back on my rear chair legs, my eyes raised to the ceiling. "Are you kidding? Ted Sinclair's a pushover. His cousin, Rodney, told me that Ted has absolutely no defensive skills at all. All those muscles have no power behind them. He's basically nothing more than a Ken doll."

Kit gasped. "Really? Oh, I wish I knew this earlier…"

"Why?"

"Well…" She lowered her eyes; her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. "I had a small infatuation with Ted during junior year."

"WHAT?!" I cried, accidentally letting my chair fall back onto all four legs with a loud _bang_! Mrs. Carvin glared at me from her desk, and I mumbled a quick apology before I turned my attention back to the now scarlet-red Kit. "Are you kidding me?" I whispered harshly. "He's a year younger than us! He's also one of the least intelligent men on campus!"

"It was just a physical attraction!" Kit whispered back, though she was highly embarrassed. "Don't tell anyone! Not even the other Nerds know about this!"

"I won't, but…_Ted_? You can do way better than that."

Kit gave me a hopeful look. "Really?"

"Uh, yeah. You're one of the smartest, sweetest girls I know. The guy who gets you would have to count his blessings, because you're way too good for most of the pigs on the planet…Miss _Valedictorian_." I gave her a wink during the last word, which made her blush furiously. It had been common knowledge for a year that Kit would receive this honor, and not even the other Nerds had tried to compete with her for this top spot.

That didn't mean she liked the attention, however. If anything, she was _embarrassed_ to be Valedictorian. "Maxwell, you…you…why do you have to…OH!" She smacked my arm playfully, and I pretended to cry in pain as she continued her mock assault on me.

"Oh, the agony!" I begged, hiding my face with my hands. "Miss Bassinet, have mercy on me!"

She giggled, stood up, and wrapped her arms around me from behind, signaling the end of the game. Her hands slid down my chest, which was well developed due to several injections of growth hormones and many hours of training. She rested her head against the back of my neck, and her warm breath tickled the sensitive skin there as she deeply breathed in and out.

Huh. This was…strange. We had embraced many times in the past, purely out of friendship, purely to comfort one another when one of us felt like crap. But this was different. This felt…

My eyes suddenly widened. _Oh god. _

"I heard," she mumbled against my back, "Edward's having a party on his boat after graduation."

"Um, yeah," I answered, wondering how I could escape her hold without making it look as if I didn't want her near me. "He's invited all the seniors. I might not go, though…" I tried to pry her hands off of my chest, but she only grasped at my fingers, and now I was truly trapped. "Um, don't we have articles to edit?"

"No," she said quietly. "I did them all before you got here."

"_What?_"

"But anyway," she continued, ignoring my shocked reaction, "you have to go to the party. I'm not going to have fun if you're not there."

"I don't know…I might go if Seth goes."

"Seth?" Kit let go of me, and I silently thanked god for this distraction. "Seth's back? That's great! How is he?"

My tension eased, and I gave her a smile. "I just saw him a few minutes ago. He helped me break up that fight. I think he's going to the Boys' Dorm."

"Oh really? Then why do I see him coming towards us right now?"

"Wha…?" I turned around, and sure enough, Seth was coming towards us, still in his civilian clothing. He gave a small wave to Kit, who greeted him so energetically that Mrs. Carvin snapped at her to be quiet or leave the library at once.

I looked away, and stuck my nose in the nearest book within reach. Huh. For seahorses, it is usually the male that gives birth, not the female.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Seth and Kit talking. Actually, it was Kit who was doing all the talking. Seth was just nodding to whatever she was saying, and threw glances at me frequently during the one-sided conversation. I'm actually quite surprised Kit didn't notice this.

"Say, are you going to go to Edward's party?" Kit asked Seth, throwing me a glance as well. I buried my head deeper into my book. _The female seahorse casts off her eggs onto the male…_

"Of course I'm going!" Seth said, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "Who wouldn't?"

Seth, you fool! Why did you have to say it like _that_? Why? Because of you, now Kit is staring at me with such luminous, expectant eyes! And that doesn't really help her already unfortunate plainness, because her eyes aren't that attractive to begin with!

_After the eggs are hatched, it is again the male that raises the young…_

"That means you can come, Maxwell!" she beamed, again hugging my neck from behind. "That means you and I can go to the party together!" I choked and dropped my book, while Seth's face froze in a look of pure shock.

"Why?!" I blurted out, attempting and failing to not blush as I tried to remember what I read last in that book. Something about the young hanging onto the father…and stuff. Oh, I can't remember! Damn my short-term memory!

Kit's grip loosened from my neck. I turned my head to apologize, only to find myself faced with such a sad and shocked stare that I immediately regretted saying what I did. "W-what do you mean, 'why?'" she said in a hushed voice. "You said…"

Oh god, think Max, think! "I know what I said," I replied quickly. "But going to the party together…it's a hassle. I mean, we're all going after the celebration, but people tend to get separated in the midst because of the parents and the hugging and all the sentimental mush…can't we just meet up at the yacht?" I finished pathetically.

"Meet up at the yacht?" Kit thought for a minute, before she asked, "But…we'll still be able to dance together and stuff, right?"

"Yeah. I mean, we'll still dance together, if that's what you want. As _friends_," I added hastily, not wanting this to turn into a date right in front of Seth.

"Friends?" Was it just me, or did Kit seem disappointed? But when she smiled, I pushed that thought out of my head. "Um, yeah. Friends. That's right. Say…" She looked around. "Where did Seth get off to?"

"Huh?" I looked around, but I didn't see my friend anywhere. Maybe he had gone upstairs?

It was then I realized that the library doors were swinging back and forth, as if someone had pushed their way through them rather forcefully.

-----------

**It's a development chapter more than anything. Slash soon to come! **


	3. Party Animals

Disclaimer: Bully is owned by Rockstar.

A/N: If you are underage, I strongly advise against reading this chapter…or the rest of the story in particular.

There are mentions of underage drinking, drunkenness as well as sexual situations in the later parts on this chapter. Yes, there is finally some direct slash here, but there are also heterosexual scenes that are detailed in content.

**Episode Three: Party Animals**

"These gowns are repulsive, MacTavish."

"Sure, Karl."

"They're impractical. It's at least eighty degrees outside, and we're left to bake in these—these polyester drapes of _doom_. The air conditioners are barely working as it is! And I can't believe we still have to wear formal clothing under the gown! We'll overheat ourselves, mark my words!"

"Sure, Karl."

"As if matters weren't already bad enough, I just found out that my parents are coming. _My parents_! Good heavens, what will they think when they realize that I'm sweating like a pig?"

"Sure, Karl."

Karl stopped fixing his tie, and looked away from his wardrobe mirror to throw an annoyed glance in my direction. "You're not listening to me at all, are you?"

"Of course I am," I replied, my tone bored and careless as I lay back on Karl's bare, stripped down mattress. I was already dressed in my blue graduation gown, with my cap placed at a lopsided angle over my head. "You've been bitching about the weather and the fact that we had to wear stuffy clothes for about half an hour. Oh, and you mentioned something about your parents…ten seconds ago, I believe?"

An indignant sputter escaped Karl's lips, and he turned away from me angrily, muttering something about smart asses with too much time on their hands. I responded by lightly telling him that if he had woken up early like I had, he'd be done dressing by now. If anything, I told him, _I_ was the one who should be complaining. Wasn't it obvious that he was boring me to death by taking so long to change?

Not that I held it against him, or anything.

"Why don't you just leave if you're so _bored_?" he snapped, fumbling as he tried to slip the dark blue gown over his head. "Humph! You're obviously done changing, so why waste time with me?"

I gave him a lazy smile, and said sweetly, "What kind of person would I be if I didn't hang back with one of my dearest friends, and annoy the hell out of him? I'd be breaking the honorary code of male friendship, that's what!" I held a hand over my heart and nodded my head solemnly.

Karl snorted at this, but I caught a shadow of a smile gracing his lips. "You could always annoy Seymour," he replied lightly. "Oh, but be a little careful. He's still a bit sore about those injuries you gave him, particularly the ones around his jaw…and that bruise near his eye."

It was my turn to snort. "I don't want to see that jerk anyway. He almost robbed me of my ability to have children!"

"Ah." Karl winced, and unconsciously pressed his legs together. "I must admit, that _was_ a little below the belt…"

"Damn right, it was!" I retorted, my insides still burning from the memory of that unpleasant experience. "For someone so high-and-mighty, I never expected him to use something so—so dirty! I'm surprised he didn't cancel my invitation to his party, though," I added as an afterthought.

"I'm surprised too. I expected him to sue your pants off the very next day. And yet, here you are…still with your pants."

"Very funny," I said sarcastically. "You're just a laugh and a half, Karl."

"Considering that I rarely make jokes, I suppose I'll have to agree. I'm not exactly known as 'Mr. Humorous.'"

"Yeah. You're more of a 'Mr. Obsessive Compulsive Perfectionist' type. That's a good thing!" I said hastily, as Karl shot me a deadly glare.

It was true, though. One of the things I admired about Karl was his ability to get the job done in a clean and precise manner. While some seniors (like that rat Edward) were still packing even on graduation day, Karl's possessions had already been moved out of the dorm ahead of time. Unfortunately, this gave his room a bare and empty look, as if a living being had never even set foot onto the wooden floorboards. All that was left was his prefect uniform, a set of civilian clothing for later, and his suit and graduation gown, which he was putting on at this very moment.

Well, he was _trying_ to put on his graduation outfit. His cap was the only thing he had to put on now, but it wouldn't fit on his head. More annoying still; his gold tassel kept falling off the top, and Karl had to bend over numerous times to retrieve it.

"Damn it!" he yelled in frustration. He threw the blue cap to the floor and stomped on it in fury. "What's wrong with this blasted thing? Why is it so _small_? I had my family tailor take my specific measurements three months ago!"

"Maybe your head's grown fatter during the three months," I suggested innocently. "With you always reading those law books, it's only natural that your brain would expand…HEY!" I yelped and ducked as Karl angrily threw the cap at my head. "I meant that in a good way! The big-headed look really works for you, you know!"

"AGH! Go bother Kolbe!" With that, Karl hauled me off of his mattress and promptly threw me out of his room, not even bothering to toss me gently as I stumbled out into the hall of the Boys' Dorm. I shot my hands out against the opposite wall, steadying myself as my face came inches away from being smashed against the cheap, dirty wallpaper.

What a jerk! I turned back to Karl to make a derogatory retort, but he simply slammed the door in my face before I could say a word.

Ugh. To think, this is the guy that's supposed to be the third highest person on my "friend hierarchy." I really should mingle with the crowd a little more.

Sulking, I trudged out of the Boys' Dorm and made my way towards the main building.

-----------

My friendship with Karl is one based completely on mutual respect.

Out of all the people in my social circle, Karl is the middle man. I've never had a problem with him, and he's never had a problem with me. At the same time, however, his accomplishments have never really impressed me, and he's never found anything too interesting about me either.

Everyone has at least one friend like that. He's the friend you know will bail you out of jail, the one who'll lecture you about staying inside the line. He's not the best friend who'll probably be sitting _next_ to you in the jail cell. (Seth has that position. He's always had it and always will.) He's not the evil friend, whom people keep around just to hate their guts. (Edward has that role. I've ripped on him so many times that Karl and Seth have memorized my insults by heart now.)

No, Karl is the dependable friend. He might be a party pooper at times, and might be a bit of a whiner, but he's one who won't abandon those who need him.

It was common circumstance that led to us befriending one another. We were in the same year, we had many of the same classes, and we didn't belong to any clique. Our parents both worked in the law department, my father and oldest sister being high-ranking police officers and Karl's father being the governor of Bullworth while his mother was a judge of the state Supreme Court. Because of this, we always had _something_ to talk about, and we grew accustomed to each other's presence…though it took Karl a couple of years to get used to me.

Oh well. The point is that Karl now considers me a friend, not merely as an acquaintance.

However, I stopped talking to Karl about my father two years ago. I told Karl that my old man had resigned from the force, which was true, but I never told Karl the reason _why_ he resigned. As of date, the only person outside my family to know about my father's condition is Seth.

How would Karl understand the situation anyway? How would he know the pain I felt when I found out that my father was a victim of Alzheimer's disease? One day, my dad won't even remember who I am. Do you know what it's like to live with that knowledge?

Karl wouldn't understand, but Seth does. That's why one of them is my _dependable_ friend, and the other is my _best_ friend.

-----------

The school auditorium was filled to the maximum with chattering parents. Dozens of eager mothers scrambled for front seats with digital cameras, while many overexcited fathers fought for the backseats, camcorders in hand.

Was my family among them? Did my mother and father come to watch me?

All of the graduating students were waiting nervously on the stage of the auditorium, the stage hidden from the parents by a large, billowing red curtain. I was sorely tempted to stick my head out from behind the mass of red drapes to see if I could spot any of my family members, but one unlucky student had tried that before me, and was given a smack upside the head by Miss Danvers.

So I stayed put.

Many of the students were dressed similarly—dark blue gowns with a dress or a suit underneath, with a blue graduation cap on top. However, some students were given additional accessories to wear. As a prefect, I was allowed to wear a white stripe along the V-neck of the gown. The honor students (many of them Nerds) were required to have neon green stripes, which unfortunately clashed with the blue.

The Salutatorian and Valedictorian had to wear the green stripes as well, but they also had to wear silver stripes (for the Salutatorian) and gold stripes (for the Valedictorian). This made them stand out most among the rest of the graduates, and Kit's face turned as red as a tomato as some of the Nerds congratulated her for the umpteenth time. When her eyes met mine, I gave her a wink and a thumbs up, which made her blush to the point where she was almost _glowing_.

Huh. Something seemed different about her face. Was she wearing lipstick?

"Hey there, _Max_."

I immediately recognized the voice. Seriously, who else in the school has such a demanding, yet nasal tone?

But something didn't feel right. Why did the voice sound so…cold?

Slowly, I turned around, and let out a start when I saw that Seth was standing right next to me, his face just a few inches from mine. From this uncomfortably close distance, I could see clearly that he was royally pissed about something, but as to what, I didn't know.

Wait a minute. Could he have possibly found out that I felt…_uncomfortable_ around him? Did he put the pieces together, and realized that my body reacted in weird ways around him? My mouth suddenly went dry, and life as I knew it came to an abrupt halt. Oh god, I never _wanted_ to be aroused by him! It just happened! It wasn't intentional! I like women too, for crying out loud! Well, some women. I'm picky, okay?

Oh god, what am I going to do? Okay, Armageddon! I'm ready for the horsemen, the rain of fire, and the end of days! Take me now!

Can you believe that all this inner turmoil never reflected once in my face? I somehow managed to keep a cool, even smile, even though my teeth were a little gritted. I waited for the bomb to drop.

It never did. Instead, Seth turned his gaze towards Kit, who was waving at both him and me energetically. I saw his eyes narrow slightly, before he turned to me with a—was that a _forced_ smile? "Are you and _Kit_ going to the party together after the ceremony?" he asked, his pale eyes locked with my dark ones. And right there, my jaw literally hit the floor.

Were Kit and I going to the party together? What kind of stupid question was that?

Still…his question _seemed_ casual enough, but there was something dangerous with the way he phrased it, and there was something dangerous in the way he was looking at me. I don't know why, but this combination shocked me so much that for several moments I simply gaped at him, unable to hide the look of surprise on my face.

Something was wrong with him.

I finally managed to collect myself, and regained the ability to speak. "A-aren't we all going later?" I said to him awkwardly. "Edward invited everyone, didn't he? And anyway, it's not like I'm actually taking her there. We're just going to meet up at the boat. As completely platonic friends. Who are not romantically linked in any way whatsoever."

I think I might have expressed the last two sentences a bit too enthusiastically. Nevertheless, Seth seemed to be somewhat relieved, as his smile became less forced. "Oh. Well, I was just asking. You know, Ed's been saying that you and Kit are hooking up again, and I just wondered…" Seth trailed off.

"Edward said WHAT?!" I stared at Seth in disbelief. "We never even hooked up once! You of all people should know that! Why do you even listen to that asshole anyway?"

Seth's smile faded, and he crossed his arms, giving me a hard stare. "It would explain why you'd been acting so strange lately," he replied coldly. "It's like you're _avoiding_ me, or something."

Oh. So that's what this was all about. He had noticed the change in my behavior after all. Oh lord, not only did I alert Seth to my discomfort around him, but me distancing myself actually bothered him to such an extent that he was now confronting me face to face. I would have been touched had his anger not been directed at me. "Listen," I said carefully, trying my best to stay calm. "I can explain everything—"

"Get into your alphabetical orders!" Miss Danvers suddenly yelled. "Dr. Crabblesnitch is about to begin the ceremony!" Sure enough, we began to hear a deep voice speak through the microphone.

"_Distinguished parents, it is my pleasure to welcome you to a time of year that is more heartfelt to me than any other…"_

What a liar. I rolled my eyes at the generic speech and turned my attention back to Seth…only to discover that he was walking away from me, towards the growing lines of alphabetically ordered students. "Seth!" I yelled. "Wait! I can explain!"

"Come on, you brats!" Miss Danvers shrieked into my ear. "MOVE IT!"

She pulled me towards the front of the "M" line, and all I could do was helplessly let myself be dragged by the fanatic woman. I tried to get Seth's attention, but the "K" line was blocked from view by the "L" line.

Damn the letter L! Why did it have to be between K and M, eh?

"_And now,"_ Dr. Crabblesnitch declared to the now anxious parents, _"let us welcome the graduates of the year 2007!"_

The curtain drew, and a loud wave of applause erupted from the crowd. Bright light suddenly flooded my eyes, and for the next five minutes I was legally blind.

Seth was going to have to wait.

-----------

"Oh honey! You looked wonderful out there!"

"Thanks, mom." I gave my mother an awkward half-smile as she hugged me fiercely around the waist. She _had_ to hug my waist—I was too tall for her to reach my shoulders, and she was a small woman, her full height being only four foot seven inches. At seventeen, I now dwarfed her by a foot and an inch.

You know, she wasn't always this caring towards me. When I was little, she and dad eagerly shipped me off to Bullworth at the first chance they got, and wouldn't even let me come home for some holidays. But ever since she hit age fifty-two, she's been acting as if she suddenly wants to win the "Mother of the Year" award. The last four years have been very interesting as a result, but I don't know what caused the change. Maybe it's a menopausal thing.

I'm not complaining, though. Late, hormone-driven affection was better than none at all, right?

After five minutes of motherly love, Mother finally pulled away and looked me over, love and tenderness etched all over her once beautiful face. "My baby boy," she whispered. "You're a man now. Oh, I think I'm gonna cry…" She pulled out her handkerchief and blew her nose, dabbing the corners at her eyes as she tried not to smear her makeup. "Oh, why'd you have to grow up so quickly? I wish I spent more time with you when you were younger!"

"Then maybe you shouldn't have sent me here when I was seven," I mumbled.

"What was that, dear?"

"Nothing, mom!"

I quickly gave my mother another hug before she could ask anything else, which resulted in her bursting into tears once more. "Oh, Eric! Come here! Come see your son!"

Mother turned towards a middle-aged man who was sitting quietly in his seat. His facial features were filled with confusion as he stared blankly at the masses of parents who were embracing their not-so-little children. "Why are we here, Martha?" he whispered. "Max isn't seventeen. Why, wasn't he twelve when we last saw him?"

I felt my heart break in two. _Oh dad…_

"No, sweetheart," Mother said gently, taking my father's hand as she led him towards me. "Max is _seventeen_ now. Don't you remember? He was home last Christmas. He gave you the watch you're wearing now!"

"Really?" Father blinked for a moment, his eyes going from me, to the small silver watch on his wrist, before finally resting on me once more. "Max," he muttered, staring hard at my face. "Max…" Then, a look of recognition spread through his features. Before I knew it, he stuck out his hand and shook mine enthusiastically. "Yes!" he exclaimed. "I remember now! Maxwell! How silly of me!"

Believe it or not, this handshake is the most amount of affection I can expect from the man. I'm not disappointed, though. Sentimental mush just doesn't run in the male bloodline of MacTavishes. Rather, we strive to receive the approval and recognition of out fathers, and I have only a few more years to do so before my own father forgets my existence completely.

When he let go, he stood back, looking at me with pride. "You've done well, son," he said. "Prefect…graduating with honors…I can't ask for more. Oh, and do forgive me for not recognizing you. I, uh, had some wine before I came here, and…well…you know how easy it is for me to get drunk and forget things. Because of the wine, I mean."

I forced a smile on my face. Father was under the impression that I knew nothing of his illness. I always played along, if only to preserve what little dignity he had left. "Yes," I said quietly. "You should be careful with your alcohol intake, dad. It's dangerous to drink too much at your age."

Father chuckled. "I suppose you're right, son. And I was under the impression that Olivia and I were the only law-abiders in the family."

"I might join you and sis in the future," I said, my voice still soft. "I sent in my application to the police a while ago."

"Of course! The Bullworth Police Department is nothing without a MacTavish to hold the reins!" Father punched me lightly in the arm, which earned him a scolding from Mother. "He's a grown man now, Martha!" Father groaned as my Mother lectured him to be gentle. "It's not like he's a child anymore!"

"He's still our baby," Mother chided softly.

"He is not! Or wait…is he?" Father blinked for a moment, his eyes clouding. "Huh. That's strange. My mind's all muddled these days. Maybe I should go home and take my medica—I mean, lie down." He looked at me hastily, to see if I had caught this slip up.

I pretended to be interested in the small scuff I saw in my shoe, and gave no indication that I heard _anything_.

"I think you should get some sleep, Eric," Mother agreed, linking her arm with Father's. "You've had a busy day anyway. We'll go home, and I'll fix you up some broth." As she and Father slowly walked towards the exit, Mother turned her head towards me and blew me a kiss. "I'll see you at home, Max! I'll have your room back to the way it was first thing in the morning!"

Oh no. "Don't use the Barney wallpaper!" I cried out to her. "I'm not seven anymore, mom!"

"Oh? But I already put it up!"

"MOM!"

"Just kidding, dear! I love you!"

I sighed, and waved dejectedly at my once negligent parents. "I love you too…I think."

-----------

I fingered the invitation in my back pocket as I walked along the beach of Old Bullworth Vale.

I'm still surprised that Edward didn't revoke my invitation. I thought he'd be pissed after I nearly broke his jaw that night. Maybe he was plotting some elaborate revenge on me. Perhaps I would face utter humiliation once I entered his boat. I don't know; I can't read minds.

The safe and obvious choice would have been to simply not go, but I promised Kit I would be there. And anyway, what could Edward do to me? He couldn't do anything illegal, and anyway, I was physically stronger than him. I would give his jaw another punishment if he tried anything stupid.

My foot stepped on a seashell, cracking it neatly in two.

We were all supposed to wear casual clothing to Edward's party, which was fortunate because the weather had become beastly hot during the course of the day. However, as I passed through the docks, I spotted some of the cheerleaders—sorry, _ex_-cheerleaders now—wearing jeans, boots, and skin-tight sweaters.

According to the Jocks, it's supposed to be the "cool" look, or something. I personally think they're nuts. They're going to overheat themselves at this rate, and they don't even appear all that attractive. Frankly, looking at them makes me feel like I'm going to faint from heat exhaustion.

I chose to wear knee-length khaki shorts, a white baseball cap, and a loose-fitting, half-sleeve, dark blue shirt. Hey, it might be plain, but it's practical.

As I approached the large, white boat of the Seymour family, I caught a glimpse of Edward on the deck. Ugh. He was wearing a blue Aquaberry polo shirt and a pair of white slacks. Slacks! Didn't people understand the meaning of _hot_ in this damn town? Next to him, in a white shirt and faded jeans, was Seth, who was laughing and smiling at some stupid joke I probably wouldn't get. Edward has a really dorky sense of humor, did you know—

Wait a minute. Seth? I blinked in confusion. When did Seth get here before me? I didn't see him leave the school before I did…unless he left right after the ceremony. Well, in any case, he seemed a lot happier now.

What was in Seth's hand? It didn't look like a soda bottle, and he was chugging it down like crazy. I looked closer, squinting, and my eyes almost bulged out of my head when I realized that he was holding a dark brown _beer_ bottle.

BEER?! ALCOHOL?! UNDERAGE DRINKING?!

"Underage drinking!" I yelled as I sprinted up the stairs that were propped against the boat's hull. I climbed on deck, and snatched the bottle from an astonished Seth. "What the hell are you doing, Seth? We're only seventeen! We're not supposed to be drinking for at least—" I did a quick math in my head "— four more years!" With that, I angrily tossed the bottle overboard, where it fell into the water with a quiet splash.

My actions caused Edward to groan loudly, and I saw that he too was drinking, as he was holding a glass of wine cooler in his left hand. "Geez, MacTavish!" he grumbled, shaking his head. "You haven't even been here three seconds, and already you're ruining the pleasant atmosphere!"

"PLEASANT?!" I shrieked. "You call breaking the law to be PLEASANT?! You call being drunk PLEASANT?! I should haul you in for this!"

"Don't over exaggerate!" Edward snapped, though his eyes looked worried at my threat. "First of all, no one is drunk! There happens to be punch and soda in the bar for those who don't want the alcohol! And second, what does it matter? This is our graduation day, MacTavish! We're not kids anymore. Some of us already happen to be eighteen, and we're legally adults as far as the country is concerned!"

I scoffed. "Eighteen might be the age where we're legally adults, but twenty-one is still the legal _drinking age_."

"Oh, come on," Seth suddenly argued. I noticed that his eyes were slightly dilated. "What's one night of drinking, anyway? We're not making this a habit! We're just kicking back and having fun!"

"W-what?" I stared at my friend in disbelief. "Did I just hear you take _Edward's_ side? How many of those beers did you drink?"

"It's just for one night!" Seth protested. "We're not at the academy anymore! It's time to loosen up, Max! And for your information, I only had two bottles."

I slapped a hand to my forehead. "Seth, it's only five in the afternoon…"

"You should have let me revoke his invite," Edward snarled at Seth. "Damn it, he's ruining everything…"

This was unbelievable. This was…this was just sick. I drew back from Seth and Edward, disgusted. "I can't take this. You guys get drunk if you want to, but I'm leaving—"

"Maxwell!"

I felt a pair of skinny, feminine arms slink around my neck, and a second later I choked; someone was hanging from my neck! Thankfully the person wasn't heavy, but still!

Suddenly, I felt this person press her—I was certain that it was a female, for no self-respecting boy wears perfume that smells like roses—cheek against mine, and the heat suddenly rushed to my cheeks when I realized who it was.

"Hi…Kit," I gasped, trying to pry her arms off of my near strangulated neck. "C-can you let go? I'm sort of…dying…"

"OH!" Immediately she let go, and I gasped in large amounts of air as she apologized over and over again. "Oh, Maxwell! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you! I was too overeager…"

"S'okay," I said, finally getting my wind back. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Edward was giving me a look of disgust, while Seth looked…huh. I couldn't read his face. That was a first, because normally I can read him like a book. It was probably just the_ beer_, though.

I turned back to Kit with the intention of greeting her properly, when I finally got a good look at her face.

My jaw fell open from sheer shock.

She looked…different. It wasn't due to her outfit. On the contrary, her outfit was bland. She was wearing white shorts, white sneakers, and a baggy white tee-shirt. However, her face was an entirely different story.

Her long brown hair had been cut into a fashionable hairdo, where the ends now curved gently against her cheekbones. _Makeup_ had been carefully applied; her smiling lips were coated with cherry-red lipstick, and her face seemed whiter from the foundation powder. Her glasses were now replaced by contacts, and for the first time, I actually saw that her dark eyes were larger than most girls, giving her the appearance of a shy child.

I can't say that she's pretty, but I must admit, she wasn't exactly plain anymore either. She bit her lip as I looked her up and down with wide eyes, not entirely sure what to say to her. _Beautiful?_ No. _Sexy?_ I'd never be able to keep a straight face. Um…_nice_, maybe?

"Well?" she asked nervously, twisting her hands into knots. "What do you think of the new me?"

"I've seen better," Edward drawled, before I could answer. "Where are your eyelashes, Bassinet? Did you pluck them out or something?"

I saw Kit's face fall, and I threw Edward a fierce glare. "Shut your damn mouth," I hissed, wrapping a comforting arm around Kit. "She looks _nice_ and you know it."

"Oooooh! I didn't know you were all protective about your girlfriend, MacTavish! I'm so scared!"

Kit trembled underneath my arm, and I tightened my hold around her. "Fuck off, Edward! Seth, you think Kit looks nice, don't you?" I looked at my friend for support. He stared at me for a moment, his face still unreadable, before he shrugged.

"She looks fine to me. Then again, I've had two beers, so my opinion isn't all that reliable."

I saw Kit's eyes widen. "Seth! You drank alcohol? But we're not twenty-one!"

"Told you," I said tauntingly to Edward, who simply snorted and tossed his drink back in one gulp.

"Go drink the punch then!" he sneered, before he turned his back to all of us and went to the lower deck of the boat, where I could hear fast-paced music and a DJ's wild shouts. I muttered curses to myself, vulgarities so foul that Kit gasped and hit me lightly in the arm as punishment. Despite myself, I chuckled good-naturedly at her feeble smacks, before I turned to Seth.

He was staring at us, his lips stretched into a strange smile. "Should I leave you two lovebirds alone?" he asked in a seemingly joking tone.

Again, I heard that hint of danger.

"L-lovebirds?" Kit's face turned an interesting shade of pink. "W-we're not love—"

"You two seem busy," Seth interrupted, that strange smile still on his face. "Forgive me, but I think I'll head off to the bar. I wanna get some more drinks. It's still late afternoon, after all, and the party's just begun!"

"Seth," I said worriedly, "maybe you shouldn't. If a cop comes by and sees you drunk, we're all going to get in serious trouble—"

"OH!" Seth gasped in mock surprise, and took a dramatic step backwards. "Oh my my! The great Max MacTavish finally acknowledges his old friend after a week of odd, distant treatment! I'm not worthy!" He gave me a fake bow as he slowly walked backwards, away from me and Kit. "All hail Max! All hail Max!" With that, he spun on his heel and headed off to the lower deck.

Kit and I stared after him in stunned silence. I don't know about Kit, but that display freaked the hell out of me. I've never seen Seth act like that before, not to me or anyone else. What the hell was the matter with him? Surely my avoiding him didn't bother him _this _much, did it?

I felt a nudge on my arm. "Maxwell," Kit asked nervously. "Is everything alright between you and Seth?"

A pause.

"Maxwell?"

"…I don't know."

-----------

There weren't that many students in the graduating class, only about fifty or so people. Edward's boat was very, _very _large, so there was little fear of overloading the vessel even when it seemed that the entire senior class had arrived. At some point in the evening, the captain of the boat set off into the lake, and a gentle rocking motion was constantly felt from that moment onwards.

Good thing I don't get seasick. Or lake-sick, in this case.

Karl also showed up, right before the boat set off. His arrival was something that came as a surprise to me. I didn't think he was the type for casual parties, nor did I expect him to show up dressed in a dark green shirt and a pair of gray, shin-length shorts. I've always seen him in _some_ type of suit or uniform, so my mind had trouble adjusting to this new look.

"I decided to take the advice of my therapist," he told me gruffly when I confronted him about his appearance in general. "She told me that I was too stressed, and that I should try relaxing some of my standards. I figured that this party was the best place to start."

"Do you even know how to dance?" I asked nervously. "There's a lot of fast movement going on in the lower deck." I had a right to worry. Even in formal parties, Karl had never been one to show off his ballroom skills.

"I came to the party to have fun, and if I must dance, I'll dance to a song I'm comfortable with."

"But Karl—"

"But _nothing_, MacTavish! By the way Bassinet, you look charming tonight, if I do say so myself."

"Oh, Karl!" Kit giggled. "Please, call me Kit. I can't stand being addressed by my last name."

Karl smiled, something that was rare for him. "Can I get you guys some punch, or some soda? I heard the punch was good; I'm getting a cup for myself. I'm not getting any alcohol, though. Seymour and Kolbe drinking like a bunch of addicts is a sickening sight to behold."

I let out a small start at this. "How much is Seth drinking?"

"Too much, if you ask me. He's on his fourth bottle, and he won't stop." Karl sighed, and rubbed his temples. "I don't know what's wrong with him. Then again, he's seemed upset ever since he came back from the hospital."

"Really?" Kit asked.

"Yes. His odd behavior started the night he returned, right after he went to look for Max at the library. I have no idea as to what happened, but for some reason he came stomping back to the dorm, like he was upset about something." Karl frowned. "I haven't seen him that angry since we were kids."

"Oh dear…" Kit murmured.

But for me, something didn't make sense. Why would he get angry after going to the library? He had only been there for a few minutes, and he had barely spoken a word to anyone other than me and Kit. As I thought, I heard Karl again ask Kit if she wanted anything to drink.

"Punch for me," Kit replied politely.

"Okay…Kit. And you, MacTavish?"

"Soda. Get me a can of Coke."

-----------

You know, there's nothing more satisfying than proving people wrong.

I remember how satisfied I felt when I first proved to Seth, Karl, and Edward that I wasn't a weakling. A few months before I turned fourteen, I had shown up at the Glass Jaw Boxing club, a place where the three usually hung out, and had challenged them to a fight. Seth and Karl had been too flabbergasted at my actually challenging them to reply, and Edward claimed he had just fought and was too tired. In his place, he had picked out a large, hulking, beefy Prep; one that I knew couldn't be easily beaten.

Seth had told me not to fight. Karl had told me it was suicide. I had ignored them all, entered the ring, and fought.

I remember receiving a bloody nose, a black eye, and an injured spleen, and I almost got knocked out twice. But in the fourth round, after ducking an uppercut from the beefy Prep, I had slammed his exposed face with a five hit combo, stunning him long enough for me to throw a hard punch straight to his right temple, knocking him out.

That was the day that Seth, Karl, and Edward re-welcomed me as a friend…a _worthy_ friend. We stuck by each other from that day out, eventually receiving the prefect position from the Headmaster himself. I felt so happy to have proven myself to Seth that nothing else seemed to matter at the time.

I wonder if it was worth it, though. I had to change myself physically to prove myself, and I think, somewhere along the line, I lost a part of myself I can never get back.

-----------

I felt a certain satisfaction when Kit wowed the crowd with her makeover.

I kept my promise to Kit, and I danced with her for a few songs, a majority of them coincidentally being slow songs. As we held each other close and moved our bodies past other couples, we heard the whispers of those who weren't dancing.

"Ohmygod! Is that Kit?"

"No way! Kit's way uglier than that!"

"This girl actually looks kind of _hot_!"

"_Steve_!"

"Sorry, sweetie…"

I grinned as Kit ducked her head in an attempt to hide her face from the eyes of our peers. "I feel like a fool," she whispered against my chest. My muscles tightened as I felt her warm breath against my skin, and I tried to mentally shake it off.

"What're you talking about, Kit? I told you, you look nice. Everyone can see that, and they're just jealous."

"Jealous!" Kit raised her large, dark eyes to mine in a scandalized look. "Why would they be jealous? Three-fourths of them never even knew my existence until this morning!"

"And that's why they're jealous. They never got to know you like I have, and now they'll never have the chance. You're going off to M.I.T. in a few weeks, aren't you?"

Kit blushed, and laid her head against my chest again. "I wish I didn't have to," she mumbled. "Now I won't be able to see you for years. You were one of my best friends…"

I sighed, and held her in a tight hug. "Oh, Kit…you—OW!"

I felt another body collide painfully against my back, and I almost fell on top of Kit as a result. I turned to the offender furiously, my anger only increasing when I saw that it was none other than Edward, who was dancing with his cousin, Victoria Valentine.

Victoria was a girl who had all of the "old charm." She was a natural blonde with baby blue eyes and delicate facial features. All that, coupled with her slender, elegant figure, would have made her seem very beautiful had she not looked as if she was constantly balancing a ball on her nose. She held her head a little _too_ high, and gave me the impression that she looked down on _everyone_, maybe even Edward himself.

This is the girl who was now giving me and Kit a haughty look. "Edward," she sniffed, as she took in the state of my slightly worn clothes. "Do you know these…_things_?"

Things?! Had she been a man, I would have decked her.

"This is Maxwell MacTavish," Edward replied, his tone bored and uninterested. "He was a prefect who patrolled the school alongside me."

"Ah." Victoria gave me one last look, before she turned to Kit with a critical eye. "And _this_…?"

"Kit Bassinet. The Valedictorian…and MacTavish's girlfriend."

"She's not—" I began, but I was cut off by the sudden hoots and catcalls from the boys in the crowd. Apparently, they had all stopped dancing and were eavesdropping on this unpleasant conversation!

Didn't they have anything _better_ to do?

"Like, I totally knew you two would end up together!"

"Maxwell, you dog! And here I was, thinking you were asexual! You never seemed to date much!"

"MacTavish! I didn't know you and Kit were together! OOOOH! Pictures!"

Several flashes went off around the room. Due to freakish coincidence, it seemed as if _everyone_ had brought along a camera with them today. I felt a muscle work in my jaw, and I saw Kit's face turn beet red from embarrassment.

That did it.

As the crowd finally lost interest in us and returned to dancing, I turned to Edward and Victoria, my face working hard to force a smile on my face. I think it only half worked—Edward and Victoria seemed kind of creeped out by my smile, but they stayed where they were. "What?" Edward asked warily. "What's so funny?"

"I just _love_ how well you two look together," I said sweetly, trying not to grit my teeth through my lie. "I just _love_ how you two seem to be perfect for each other." Kit stared at me in confusion, but I secretly gave her a wink, and she looked away, smiling.

Because he knew me, Edward raised a suspicious brow at my comments. However, Victoria, who did _not_ know me, smiled haughtily at my words. "Thank you, Maxwell. I'm so glad that a low class boy like you can realize that money belongs with money."

That jaw muscle was really going at it now. "You speak the truth, Victoria," I said pleasantly. "And I'm sure you and Edward share each other's secrets, am I correct?"

"Of course," Victoria replied. "My Edward is going to be the president of the third largest pharmaceutical company in the world…and I'm going to be right beside him, guiding him every step of the way."

"Oh really?" I turned to Edward, who was now fully on edge. I smiled at him, before I innocently said, "In that case, I'm sure you told Victoria all about that rash of yours, right Eddy? Did your scientists find a real cure for it yet, or is your wee-wee still itchy?"

Edward's eyes widened in pure shock, as his cousin-slash-fiancée turned to him with an astonished stare. "You have a _rash_? And you _touched_ me?"

"Father found a cure _weeks_ ago!" Edward cried desperately, grabbing onto Victoria's arm as she backed away from me. "It's not contagious, and other than a scar here and there, there's absolutely no trace—"

"Don't _touch_ me, you vermin!" Victoria yelled, and stomped away as people turned towards them, curious as to what the second commotion was about.

Edward stared after her desperately, before he ran after her, screaming, "Muffincake! Oh, Victoria, wait! I can explain!"

I snickered, savoring my revenge before I led Kit back to the snack table. She poured herself another cup from the punch bowl, while I drank another soda.

I'm not one for fruity drinks, but Kit and Karl really seem to like that punch, for a second later, Karl joined us, taking another drink from the punch bowl as well.

You know, I remembered there being a lot more beer bottles on the table. I also remembered Seth being in this room too. I looked around, but I couldn't see him through the thick crowd of dancing idiots.

And then someone mentioned that he had gone into one of the boat cabins to retire.

-----------

When night fell, many of the other graduates were intoxicated beyond belief. A few were still dancing, but some were now making out like crazy. The more tired ones had taken to the bedroom cabins, while others merely passed out on the floor.

Unfortunately, Kit was now one of these drunken people.

"Kit?" I snapped my fingers in front of her face. "Hey, Kit? You okay?"

Kit replied in a slur of words that were completely unintelligible. She made a motion to stand, but she nearly toppled to the floor. I caught her before she fell, and forced her to sit down in a nearby chair.

"Kit!" I said loudly, shaking her as I tried to snap her out of it. She stared at me in a daze, her eyes half-lidded and dilated. She giggled uncontrollably, and her breath had a strange smell to it.

God, how the hell did she get drunk? The only thing she drank was that fruit punch, and surely that couldn't have—

Wait a minute.

Leaving her in the chair, I walked over to the snack table and scooped up a cup of the red liquid. I held it near my nose, and tentatively sniffed. There was a strange odor coming off of the beverage, one that I had smelled whenever my father drinks rum…

I stared at my cup, eyes wide with horror. Dear god, someone had spiked the punch bowl!

I threw the cup away and went back to Kit, hauling her to feet. "Come on," I said roughly as I threw her arm over my shoulder to support her weight. "We're getting Karl, and then we're getting off this boat of drunkards." I looked around for my black friend. "Say…where _is_ Karl, anyway?"

"_I like to move it, move it! I like to move it, move it! I like to move it, move it! I like to move…MOVE IT!_"

The DJ (one of the few sober people left in the room) put on a very fast paced song, and to my utter astonishment, I saw _Karl_—KARL, of all people—jump onto the dance floor, twisting and shaking his body wildly as he danced like a madman.

I guess he _did_ know how to dance after all.

But he too, was clearly drunk. The Karl I knew would never show himself off like this, in front of several trashy girls who tried to dance around him, only to bump into him and fall to the floor in a fit of giggles. I groaned and turned my eyes away in disgust when he began to _strip_ for them, removing his top and swinging it in the air as the girls squealed with glee. One of the girls looked like that junior student, Lola Lombardi, but I paid no attention to her.

Karl was now taking his pants off. Oh yeah. He was _soooo_ drunk.

I decided not to interfere, as Karl seemed to actually be having fun. I pulled Kit towards the bedroom cabins, so that I could get her to bed without someone taking advantage of her in the process.

"_I like to move it, move it! I like to move it, move it! I like to move it, move it! I like to move…MOVE IT!_"

-----------

"Hello? Is anyone using this room—OH MY GOD!"

I shut the door just as I heard a shriek of pleasure, followed by a low groan. Knowing without looking that I was blushing up a storm, I tried to will away that certain warmth in my lower region.

It didn't help though, that when I opened the next door, I found myself in the bathroom. Okay, there's nothing arousing about a bathroom, but there's something very arousing about seeing two people fucking each other like mad on the bathroom sink. Aha, didn't expect that, did you?

I couldn't look away from this one, and I'll tell you why. The two people who were in the midst of fucking were Edward and a redheaded girl who was definitely _not_ Victoria. Both were naked, their bodies slick and covered in sweat. Both were moaning and panting like dogs in heat, and were showing no signs of stopping anytime soon.

They must have been going at it for a while now, as all the mirrors in the bathroom were covered in fog.

Edward was currently pumping her from behind, his muscles twitching as he grabbed her breasts and squeezed them to the brink of pain. The girl cried out, which apparently aroused Edward even more as his hip movements became harder and faster…

A pain in my member snapped me out of my daze, and I practically ran out of the bathroom, breathing very hard as I tried to control myself.

Was everyone on this ship having sex? Was everyone taking part in debauchery and sin? I could not give in. As probably the last sober and sane person on this ship, I could not afford to lose self-control now!

Kit moaned, and slumped against my body as I struggled to hold her up. Whimpering this time, I tried another door, and almost wept with relief when I saw that it was empty.

Thank you! Whatever spiritual deity that's watching over me, thank you so _much_!

I helped Kit to the bed, and gently laid her upon the clean, white sheets. She moaned as I drew away from her, and grabbed my arm as I tried to leave.

"Don't…go," she mumbled, tugging my arm as she gave me a pleading, desperate stare. "Stay with me…" Her other hand trailed down my chest, towards my private area. However, I quickly grabbed her hand before she could touch it, and gave her a wide-eyed stare as I realized that _she_ was also horny. Now what am I going to do?

I thought about my own raging erection, and wondered. She was willing, despite being drunk. Maybe I _could_. Everyone else was in the middle of a rut fest, so why not join in?

I mentally slapped myself. Take advantage of a drunken girl? That was criminal! That was no better than rape! What the hell was I thinking? And if she got pregnant…oh lord, I don't even want to go there.

She was still tugging at my arm, her eyes still pleading. I shook my head, and forced her to lie back down on the bed. I pulled the covers up to her neck despite her protests, and gently stroked her now short hair until she finally sighed, closed her eyes, and went to sleep.

I waited a few more minutes, in case she woke up again. When she showed no sign of rising, I quietly snuck out of her room, and shut the door with a soft _click_.

Outside, I leaned my back against the cabin door and sighed. I had to find a room of my own, and get rid of my "little problem" in private.

-----------

Four doors and three more horny couples later, I finally found a room that I _thought_ was empty. I squinted through the darkness, but the only visible signs of another person actually being there were the numerous beer bottles that were strewn around the floor.

That should have served as a red flag, but I didn't register anything other than my increasingly painful sexual desire. Hurriedly unzipping my pants, I shut the door behind me and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Goddamn it," I mumbled, as I pushed down my pants and boxers. Immediately my erection poked out of its confinement, and I struggled to control my breathing as I slowly began to stroke myself.

To think, I've been reduced to this. Don't look at me like that! I am NOT willing to get a girl pregnant at age seventeen, just because I have a major hard-on that will not go away! Normally I'd have a cold shower, but with Edward in the bathroom, that's not an option.

I gripped at my solid length, crying out in frustration when the aching need only intensified. I gingerly stood up from the bed, pulling up my pants. This was a nightmare! What am I going to do?

Suddenly there was a shuffling noise, and a clinking sound of two beer bottles bumping against each other as they rolled on the floor.

I froze, my hands still clutching at my unzippered pants. Someone was in here, and whoever it was, he or she had seen me and my pathetic attempt at masturbating. A thousand suspects ran through my mind at once, but they were eliminated just as quickly when I remembered seeing them either rutting in one of the other rooms, or fucking one another in the bathroom, dance room, etc…

I heard uneven footsteps against the floorboard as the person—whoever it was—came towards me. I took a deep breath and quickly turned around, half prepared to face my stalker and half prepared to run away, should it be someone I was unfamiliar with.

A familiar outline was visible through the darkness. It was male, that much I could already tell. I squinted, and gasped when I finally recognized who it was.

Dear god. HIM?

"Seth…" I stared at my friend, who was swaying slightly as he gave me a disoriented stare. There was no doubt about it, he was drunk to the extreme, and looked as if he was about to drop dead any moment from now. Still idiotically clutching at my pants, I finally took note of the empty beer bottles on the floor. "Shit, how many of these did you drink? Are you fucking trying to kill yourself?"

"It's…your…fault," Seth slurred, giving me a strange, drunken smile. "I'm fucked…and it's 'cause of yooooooou…" His eyes lingered on my face, before they descended to my chest…to my waist…and stopped at my still very hard member. A shiver went up my spine when I saw his smile widen, though I'm ashamed to admit that it wasn't necessarily a shiver of fear.

"W-what the hell are you blaming me for?" I stammered, trying and failing to keep my voice calm. "I-I'm not the one who forced you to drink this much!" I sounded like a child, even to my own ears, but I couldn't help it. I was always an open book to Seth. He knew me too well, and I hated him for it.

I took an unconscious step away from him while trying to zip up my pants. When I heard another clink of an empty beer bottle, I realized that he was coming towards me with a predatory gleam in his eye.

Oh god! Tell me that he's not seriously thinking of…of…

"Damn it, Seth!" I screamed, no longer caring if anyone heard us. I backed away more quickly now, my hand wildly grabbing for the doorknob behind me. "Stay away from me! I don't want this, not with you!"

Just as my fingers closed around the cold metal doorknob, Seth suddenly lunged forward and slammed me against the door, trapping my body beneath his. I gasped when I felt a certain hardness rub against mine, and I forcefully turned my gaze away from Seth's.

I didn't want to see his face. I didn't want him to see I was enjoying this! He wasn't in his right mind!

I suddenly felt something soft and warm brush against the exposed part my neck. I ignored it, but then there was a warm wetness, followed by gentle sucking. He was…he was kissing my neck! I grunted and tried to twist away, but Seth, who was the physical superior between us, held me in place and continued to suckle on my skin until he left raw and tender patches all over my throat.

"You like that?" he mumbled against my skin. "Is this better than what _Kit_ does for you?" With that, he teasingly blew on the raw patches of skin, which aroused me so much that I struggled even harder.

"Seth! S-stop this! I don't want…Aaaaah….!"

A rough tongue suddenly licked my collarbone, and I couldn't stop myself from gasping as a thrill of pleasure went through me. Seth quickly used this opportunity to capture my lips with his. His tongue skillfully invaded my mouth as I choked on my protests, taking the time to taste me as if I was some delectable fruit that he had been _waiting_ to get his hands on.

But it was a distraction. While I was preoccupied with the kiss, his hands slowly slid underneath my still unzipped pants. I breathed heavily through my nostrils when he began to stroke my buttocks, but I flat out groaned into his mouth when he started to thrust his hips slowly against mine, his arousal evidently matching mine in terms of need.

You can imagine that none of this is helping my erection, which was already painful even before Seth began raping me. In the midst of all this, I almost considered giving up and letting him have his way with me, just to get rid of this ache in my lower region.

But my mind won in the end.

I bit down hard on his tongue, and he pulled away from me, hissing. I then pushed him away and threw a hard punch at his jaw, putting every bit of strength I had into this one hit.

At any other time, Seth probably would have avoided this blow. But he was drunk, disoriented, and not up to speed. The punch connected fully with his face and he went down like a sack of bricks, out cold.

I stood over him, panting as I finally managed to zip up my pants. I backed away from his unconscious body, unsure of what to do.

I did the only logical thing that came to mind. I fled.

-----------

It was three in the morning, according to my watch.

Out on the boat deck, I stared out at the black lake, staring at the white line that was the beach of Old Bullworth Vale. The lighthouse was shining brightly, and somehow the sight of it did much to calm my frayed nerves.

I sat down on one of the white, plastic deck chairs. I had rid myself of my erection sometime ago, merely by choosing the darkest corner of the deck and pumping myself furiously until I came with a gasp onto the wooden floors. I tried not to think about anything, about _anyone_…but despite my efforts, images of _that_ somehow managed to sneak into my head at the last moment.

I didn't worry about anyone seeing me. Everyone was either knocked out or dead drunk. I even witnessed Karl lying naked in one of the lifeboats, with one of the trampy girls cuddled against him.

The only person that could have seen me was the captain, but no one's seen him come out of the steering room since the boat left Old Bullworth Vale. So I ignored him.

Still, what was I going to do when morning came? Should I talk to Seth about…what happened? Would he even remember? Or should I just avoid the issue again? No. Avoidance was what led to _this_ mess.

But that brought a question to my mind. Was Seth really…_attracted_ to me? My discomfort around him, the unwanted sexual tension…did he feel all those things too?

I buried my head in my hands. I shouldn't have come here.

-----------

When the boat finally reached the docks about three hours later, I dragged my exhausted body off of the boat. I didn't care that it was only six in the morning, or that no one else was awake yet. I wasn't going to see most of these people ever again. Who cared about last goodbyes?

I didn't get any sleep, you know. After almost getting raped by my best friend, how could I? But my body has limits, and the only thing I wanted to do now was go home to my parents in Bullworth Town, and lie in my bed for the next ten years.

As I stepped onto the docks, I heard someone call out my name from behind me.

Seth.

I turned to him with a wary eye, scrutinizing his every movement. His appearance was disheveled, and he was clutching at his head in pain. Definite hangover, though I didn't tell him this.

I also noticed that his eyes were downcast, and that he looked guilty. He remembered.

When he finally reached me, he seemed to be at a loss for words. He opened his mouth several times, only to shut it just as quickly. "M-max…"

"I have nothing to say to you," I said quietly. There was no anger in my voice, nor was there remorse. Just fatigue.

Seth looked up, surprised at my passive tone. In all honesty, I was too, but then again I was too tired to really give a crap about anything, much less our evidently mutual feelings of sexual attraction for one another. But that's a topic I'd rather not touch. "Max," he whispered, "I…I don't know how I can apologize…"

"Don't," I said curtly. "It never happened. Let's leave it at that."

"I can't."

I raised a brow. Okay…I hadn't expected _that_. "Just forget about it, Seth. And at any rate, it wasn't your fault. You were drunk. You never would have acted like that in real life."

"What makes you think that?" he asked, his tone suddenly angry. "What if my actions were based on real feelings, eh? What then, MacTavish?" I felt my passivity fade as his eyes narrowed icily at me, and I suddenly wished that I had just gone home.

No. He couldn't be serious about _that_. I kept telling myself he wasn't serious, even though I was once again beginning to feel uncomfortable. "That's ridiculous," I told him. "We're both men. What would people _think_?It would never work."

Without warning, Seth grabbed my shoulders and pulled my body flush against his. I was so stunned that I didn't even cry out—I simply froze as his face came dangerously close to mine, his alcohol-ridden breath warming my face as our lips came just inches away from touching.

_Move_, my mind hissed at me. _Get away, you idiot! RUN!_

I stayed still.

His arms held me close, possessively even, although I did nothing to return his embrace. I simply closed my eyes as his warm forehead then pressed against mine. I heard a sigh, as if he was slightly frustrated with my refusal to cooperate. "Max," he whispered softly. "You can't pretend that last night meant nothing to you. You can't hide these things from me. I know you."

I felt my body tremble at these soft words. I slowly opened my eyes, and found Seth's pale gaze staring directly into mine. Light gray searched intently in dark brown for a sign that I understood, that I realized how he felt.

I turned away, breaking the connection. "Bye, Seth. Do well in college."

I walked away from him unceremoniously, not looking back once.

The sea was heavy, the sky grey.

-----------

**Yes, I like the song "Move It." Laugh at me if you will, as long as you do it privately.**

**I've decided to write the story in specific time arcs. This is the end of the Graduation Arc. Next is the Academy Arc, where Max begins training to become an officer of the law. From that point on, there will be more physical interactions between characters**

**It's been said that reviews are delicious, nutritious food for the brains of writers. Don't let us starve! Leave a review! TT**


	4. Requirements for Elegibility

Disclaimer: Bully is owned by Rockstar.

A/N: This is the start of the Police Academy Arc. Not only is this is a development chapter, but it's also unfortunately PACKED with info. However, it's needed, so bear with it. Slash will return in all its glory…soon.

Ugh. Do you know how much information there is on police academies? The training methods for the academies differ by state and country, so I had to mix and match info to get a story setting I liked, which was a GIANT pain in the ass. I bet no one cares, though. (Sobs in corner)

Having never set foot in a police academy myself, some info may not actually be part of a cadet application process. If there are any police experts reading this, forgive me if I make a mistake or two…or ten.

Anyhoo, enjoy.

**Episode Four: Requirements for Eligibility**

"Move, _strumpet_!"

I was roughly shoved aside by a haughty, auburn-haired, frighteningly muscular woman as she made her way to the front of the bustling crowd. Thank heavens she wasn't that much stronger than I was, and I quickly managed to regain my balance before I stumbled into the timid looking boy next to me.

Bitch. What the hell was her hurry anyway? It's not like the police are going to take recruits on a first come, first serve basis…

You're probably wondering where I am. Well, I'm standing outside City Hall in Bullworth Town, where a large crowd of people were gathering for the chance to take the written portion of the Police Recruitment Examination. Some people had been standing around for _hour_s, pacing back and forth while chewing frantically at their fingernails. Others were sitting quietly on the steps, staring listlessly at those who were pacing.

I was one of the pacers. See my fingernails? They're chewed to the quick.

"Oh man," a tall, overly muscular man behind me whispered. "I hope the written stuff ain't too hard this year. I failed it two times already! If I fail it again, I have to wait another _three weeks_!"

"Too bad," the timid boy next to me whispered back. "You look like you could pass the physical part, but you have to pass _everything_ to get accepted, don't you?"

"Yeah." The muscle man sighed. "Ain't life a dick?"

I covered my ears. Their conversation was not helping my already tense nerves.

The doors to City Hall suddenly opened, and out of the building came Bullworth's police commissioner, Theodore Traitstone. Next to him was Bullworth's governor, Richard Branting, also Karl's beloved father. I can't help but remark at how similar Karl and his father are in terms of looks. Put them together and you wouldn't be able to tell them apart.

"Applicants!" Commissioner Traitstone yelled, attempting to make himself heard over the chatter of the crowd. "We will be dividing the group into two rooms! Those who have a last name beginning from 'A' to 'L' will follow me! Those who have a last name beginning from 'M' to 'Z' will follow Governor Branting to another room! Be prepared to show your admission card to us _before_ you enter the room, or else you will not be allowed to take the exam! Good luck!"

With that, the crowd began to hurriedly split in two. Approximately half went with Commissioner Traitstone while the other half, along with myself, followed Richard Branting into the City Hall building. Friends quickly exchanged their goodbyes and family members shouted final words of encouragement to their loved ones.

I didn't have anyone with me.

It's not that they didn't care. My mother was taking care of my father at home, my sister had an assignment with the homicide detectives, and now that it was the beginning of August, all of my friends were settled at their respective universities. Kit and Seth should have made it to M.I.T. by now, and Karl should be at Harvard, studying his precious law books. I should send them an e-mail soon.

Wonder if Seth is still upset. He has a right to be.

I clutched at my admission card and stepped into the building.

-----------

It's not easy, you know. To become a police officer, I mean. You don't just hand in an application and get a badge in return. It takes an insane amount of work to become an enforcer of the law, and to make matters worse, it all has to be done in a short amount of time.

Let me start with the police application. This isn't just a "pen-and-paper" application. It's actually done in several steps, and many of those steps consist of countless examinations, all ranging from physical, written, oral, mental, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera...

Believe it or not, the written examination I'm here for today is only the second step. The first step was to take two online tests, which were called the Preliminary Background Application and Job Preview Questionnaire. These tests were designed to see if I had any…err…_issues_ I need to resolve, and to see if I had any prior knowledge about the police force. Thankfully for me, I don't have any serious issues at present, and I have plenty of knowledge about the police force thanks to my police-obsessed family.

The online exams concluded I had a pretty good chance of making it, and I was sent an admission card for the written exam.

Officially, the written exam is called the Personal Qualifications Essay. It's basically a bunch of essay questions related to judgment, decision making, and behavioral flexibility. However, written communication skills are also evaluated, which meant that the illiterate and stupid are immediately eliminated.

That's why you don't see a lot of Jocks becoming police officers. You have to actually have a degree of intelligence for the job.

I'd tell you more, but I have to focus on the exam. I need at least a score of 70 to move on.

What would I do during a hostage situation? Hmm…

-----------

My sister, Olivia, is thirty-eight years old. She is twenty-one years my senior, lived outside of home for twenty years, and has nineteen years of experience with the police force under her belt.

Despite our large age gap, we love each other dearly. She has always given me much advice over my life, and always with a smile. When I told her about my wish to become a police officer, she had given me many tips on how NOT to fail the written exams.

"Use good examples that adhere to the question asked," she told me. "And include lots of detail. That way, you can showcase your abilities and potential in a way that's clear and easy to understand."

"Lots of clear detail. Got it."

"But for god's sake, don't ramble, and make sure you check your spelling! Those graders are grammar Nazis. Did you know there was this one guy who got a _negative_ grade due to mechanical mistakes? He cried so much…"

I paled. "Oh god."

"Don't panic! Didn't you tell me you got an A in English?"

"But what about the judgment and decision-making part?" I asked nervously. "What if I mess up there?"

Olivia laughed, and ruffled my hair affectionately. "Oh Maxie! Policemen have to make decisions on a daily basis. You're expected to recognize small problems and solve them before they become big problems. If you get a hard question that requires judgment, just think about the problems you've dealt with in the past and how you approached them. Why did you do what you did? Would you do it again?"

I stayed silent. Thoughts of the Bullworth riots entered my head, and I suddenly felt a major drop in my confidence.

"Don't worry!" Olivia continued, catching my worried look. "You were a Bullworth prefect! That'll look good on your record."

That actually made me feel _worse_, believe it or not, but I decided to move on. "Just tell me about the flexibility part," I said quietly.

"Police officers must be able to work under different situations," Olivia explained. "Can you work alone, where you're only responsible for your own actions? Can you work with a partner, or as a member of a team? Are you capable of following the orders of others, and can you work cooperatively with other team members? Officers must be able to assume these different responsibilities at any given time, because on the job, you might often find your role constantly changing."

I stared at Olivia in disbelief. "How am I supposed to write an essay on _that_?" I cried.

"You were a prefect, weren't you?" Olivia replied gently. "Every answer is unique, little brother. Write about your past activities. Write about your partnership with Seth. In a way, being a prefect prepared you to adapt to this behavioral flexibility…are you okay?" Olivia felt my cheeks, which had suddenly turned red. "You look feverish, all of a sudden."

"I'm fine," I mumbled quietly, my eyes cast downward. "I was just thinking about someone. It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

-----------

I wish I could have gone straight home after the three hour long essay, but all applicants were to remain at the test site until _all_ of the Personal Qualifications Essays were graded. People lingered in and out of the building, too anxious to sit still, too tired to do anything overexerting.

I sat on the steps outside City Hall, with my head in my hands. There must have been at least one hundred applicants in this area alone. How long would grading take? And would I even move on, despite earning the minimum score of 70? With this many people, the police would likely take those with an 85 or higher. What then?

"I think I flunked," a small voice whispered from behind me. "How did you do, sir?" I turned around, and found myself staring at the dark-haired, timid boy from the crowd.

You know, I never really _looked_ at him before, due to me being nervous as hell…but now, with the kid this close to me, I noticed that he looked young. Very young. _Way_ too young to be seventeen, and _way_ too soft-looking to be signing up for a job like this.

"How old are you?" I asked flatly, not even bothering to say hello. "You don't look old enough to be here."

The boy looked startled at my words. "I-I'm seventeen," he stammered as he took a seat next to me. "W-why did you ask?"

"You don't look it," I replied, my voice still flat. "In fact, you don't look a day over fourteen."

"I'm _seventeen_! I swear it! H-here, I'll show you my driver's license!"

"Forget it," I said, sighing. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt." I didn't believe the kid at all, of course. However, I decided to back off, because the poor guy was now shaking like a leaf. Reminded me of my prefect days. "Look," I said, my tone noticeably softer. "I didn't mean to give you the third degree. It's just that you honestly don't look old enough to be here, and this isn't some easy job where you can rectify mistakes."

"I know," the kid said quietly. He then turned to me fully, smiled, and gave me his hand. "I'm David."

I took his offered hand, noting its soft, weak grip. "Max."

"Nice to meet you, sir."

"Nice to meet you too, kid."

Maybe I should keep an eye on him. At the rate he's going, this kid wouldn't last a day on the force. I don't know…I guess I don't want him to get eaten alive by the competition. Damn my inability to ignore helpless people. Maybe I really do have a Messiah complex...

"THE SCORES ARE IN!" a woman screamed from the door. "GUYS! GET YOUR BUTTOCKS IN HERE UNLESS YOU WANT TO BE ELIMINATED FOR TARDINESS!"

I turned to David, whose face was suddenly white with terror. Remembering his earlier comment about his fear of flunking, I quickly took him by the hand and stood up, giving him a half smile as he stared at me in confusion. "W-what…?"

"Come on," I said, pulling him into the building. "We want to get our scores, don't we?"

"Oh!" He perked up, and color returned to his pale cheeks. "Of course!"

Together, we ran through the building, and it wasn't long before we spotted a large group of applicants hovering over a _very_ large list that was taped to the wall. Releasing the small David so that he could wait in the safety of the back, I pushed and wormed my way through the crowd, suffering several elbows to the face and kicks in the shin.

Selfish assholes!

After several more minutes of physical abuse, I finally managed to make my way to the front and took a peek at the list.

It was a column of names, from the highest scorer to the lowest. Grades were best out of 100, and only those with a score of 70 or higher were considered to have actually passed the exam. Hey, who would have known? Someone got a perfect mark on his essays. Nerd.

I don't care who it is, however. It wasn't me.

I kept looking. My heart lifted when I saw that David was third on the list, with a score of 96 out of 100. Heh, the kid's smart too. Who would have known?

But where the hell was _my _name?

"Aw, man!" I looked around, and saw the muscleman from before tearing his hair out in grief. "I failed _again_! This is a fuckin' nightmare! Now I gotta wait another three fuckin' weeks!"

"I failed too!" cried a boy who looked suspiciously like a Jock from Bullworth.

"Me too!"

"I'm on the borderline…is that good or bad?"

Shut up, shut up, shut up! How could I think happy thoughts with all this talking of FAILING? I turned my attention back to the list and forced myself to remain calm as I looked for my name. Not fourth. Not fifth. It didn't seem that many people passed the exam, so as long as I got over 70, I could move on to the physical exams…not sixth. Not seventh.

I finally found my name.

In eighth place out of one hundred applicants, Maxwell MacTavish.

Score: 92 out of 100, overall.

-----------

**E-mail Sent: August 3, 2007**

**Hello, Maxwell!**

**Forgive me for e-mailing you instead of using the "instant messaging" you like so much, but I feel more comfortable using e-mail. That way, I can gather my thoughts together and write them down in an organized manner. Do forgive my old-fashioned quirks, my dear friend!**

**M.I.T. is so large! I don't know what to make of it. Even with the map, I found myself getting lost on campus at least fifteen times. The students there are of no help at all. I honestly wish you were with me. You were always willing to assist me, something these boys absolutely will not do! They seem more interested in—in courting me!**

**I think I'll go back to wearing my glasses. I'll gather less attention that way. I have to focus on becoming a biomedical engineer, after all!**

**You know what the strange thing is? Seth isn't here yet. I asked all the Computer Science students if they've met him, but they said that he hasn't shown up yet. **

**I haven't seen him since Edward's party. Do you know what happened to him? Did he decide to go to another university instead? If he did, give him a kick in the bum for me…he promised me he would come to M.I.T. so that I wouldn't have to be alone!**

**Oh, and congratulations on passing the written exam! I'm so happy that you did well!**

** Yours truly,**

** Kit**

-----------

The Physical Abilities Test is exactly like it sounds. It's a test that measures our physical abilities.

This test took place in one of the athletic gyms in Old Bullworth Vale. While this was probably the most straightforward of all the exams, this was also one of the most grueling. There are two parts, and both MUST be passed with a score of 70 or greater, otherwise I'm eliminated from the running.

Harsh.

As one of the top ten applicants, I was scheduled almost immediately to take the Physical Abilities Test. See, the written exam was for two purposes—to knock out the brainless idiots while, at the same time, determining the order of who would take the next exam. The highest ranked automatically proceed, while those lower ranked have to wait weeks for their turn.

But before one actually goes ahead with the physical evaluations, all applicants are required to undergo a _medical_ evaluation. We need to have good vision, at least 20/30 in each eye. The same if contacts or glasses are worn. Our body fat couldn't exceed a certain amount, and our hearing had to be good. Really good. Like, you-can-hear-a-pin-drop-in-the-middle-of-a-freaking-party good. I know it sounds like a lot, but it's pretty standard stuff.

No really, it is.

Luckily, all those years of training and steroid pumping made my body a perfect physical specimen. And, luckier still, none of the steroids were traced in my urine or blood. Huzzah.

After getting the "okay" from the medics, I was finally allowed to take the first portion of the physical exam. The first part was to measure my agility, my strength, and my endurance. This was done by three exercises, all of which were timed, all of which I had to perform twice.

I had to do the Side Step for agility. I can understand the women doing this, because it somehow makes them look hot. But when _guys_ do it…it just looks wrong. Stepping sideways across three lines…it was humiliating listening to the other guys snicker at me for looking like a gay ballet dancer, but you know…their taunts just drove me to do better. Got the second best score overall.

I then had to perform a Cable Pull for strength. No snickers here, eh boys? The test concluded that I was _freakin' _strong, almost comparable to a speeding car on a highway. I should e-mail Kit about that. Then again, this might make her want to experiment on me, and I don't want to go through _that_ again…

Am I rambling? I am? I'm sorry. Where was I?

Oh yeah. The test. My last exercise for the first portion of the physical exam was to ride a Stationary Bicycle to test my endurance. Honestly, this was a breeze. Just pedal as hard and as fast as you can for two minutes. How the hell do you fail this one?

Never mind. The guy who went after me just had a stroke and failed. Or died.

No wait, he's alive. He failed.

-----------

The second portion of the Physical Abilities Test consists of only one exercise, and for that I'm grateful.

Unfortunately, Olivia told me that this is the test most people _fail_.

I'm supposed to run. That's it. I'm supposed to run 1.5 miles on a track, and I'm supposed to do it in 14 minutes…or less. If I'm even one second over, I _fail_, and there are no second chances.

Given that I don't exactly have the best stamina in the world, this test worried me. Olivia told me to "Just relax, baby brother!" But after the first ten minutes passed and I still had a quarter of a mile to go, I panicked.

I was going to fail! The end was near!

"Hi Max!" David greeted as he passed me. "Bye Max!" With that, he sprinted away.

Wow. For a shrimp, he was really fast.

I wonder if I could catch him?

-----------

Okay. I can't catch him.

But I passed the finish line at 13 minutes, 59 seconds.

-----------

**E-mail Sent: August 15, 2007**

**Dear Maxwell,**

**I'm so proud of you! You passed the physical exam! Hugs and kisses all around! Well, I can't hug you now, but remind me to give you one the next time we meet!**

**I heard that there's a department interview next, along with a polygraph test. Remember, just tell the truth, and they can't hold anything against you!**

**Oh…terrible news. Seth isn't coming to M.I.T.! I heard that he canceled his application here, and…well, I have no idea where he's gone off to! Max, you're the one who's closest to him. Where did he go?**

** Forever worried about you,**

** Kit**

**P.S. – Say…wouldn't it be horribly cruel if they forced you to do the interview while taking the polygraph test at the same time? That would be quite the amusing sight, however…don't you agree?**

-----------

Goddamn it, Kit! You and your horrendously accurate imagination!

"So, Mr. MacTavish," one of the department panelists said tonelessly, "you are related to former police chief, Eric MacTavish, am I correct?"

"Yes," I answered calmly. "He's my father." I heard a series of soft clicks from behind me, and the five members of the panel nodded in approval.

I took a deep breath, and the clicks suddenly increased in speed. "Relax, son," Governor Branting said gently. "You're making the needle jump all over the place."

"Sorry, sir," I said embarrassedly, forcing my body to relax. But seriously…who could stay calm when there was a freakin' _polygraph_ machine attached to your body? With wires sticking to your arms and forehead, how could anyone pass this test without freaking out at least _once_? It's hopeless, I tellsya! HOPELESS!

Oh crap, the needle's jumping again. Must stay calm. _Caaaaalm_.

"Have you been involved in any acts of violence recently?" another panelist asked, a woman this time.

Recently? Well, I didn't punch anyone in months, not since the pervertedly hot Seth tried to freaking rape me. So technically… "No," I answered quietly. My ears strained to hear the machine behind me, and I sighed with relief when all I heard was the soft, steady clicking.

Technically, I didn't lie. I didn't do anything violent _recently_.

"Why do you want to join the police force?" Commissioner Traitstone asked, giving me a critical eye. "Is it because two of your family members have already joined the force?"

"I'd be lying if I said that my dad and Olivia didn't influence me a bit. But to be honest, I applied for the police force because I want to protect others. I'm not here because becoming an officer is some family tradition. I'm here because _I _want to be here. I'm here because I think that being a police officer is something I'm meant to do in life."

"Then what happened at Bullworth Academy?" the first, emotionless panelist asked. "You were a prefect there, were you now?"

"I-I was," I admitted. I felt a pink flush rise in my cheeks despite my efforts to remain collected.

"There was a noticeable and frankly _disturbing_ riot there," Commissioner Traitstone commented. "Not only was the Headmaster tied up in his own office, but all of the prefects were found subdued, injured, and out of commission. Now tell me, Mr. MacTavish. If you couldn't even protect the students at an academy, how can the police force trust you to protect the lives of countless civilians?"

My hands clenched, and I felt that familiar shame and anger rise within me. The polygraph machine let out a rapid series of clicks, and Governor Branting asked me rather nervously to calm down.

I did, but it took a while to get the image of a half-dead Seth out of my head. "I'm not going to avoid taking responsibility," I said quietly. "I should have noticed that the Head Boy was…unstable, and I should have stopped the problem before it got out of hand. It was a lack of judgment and a huge error on my part."

"Judgment and good decision making are what's needed to become an officer," Governor Branting replied, shaking his head. "How can we trust you with a badge, knowing that you made mistakes like _that_?"

"Because," I replied fiercely, "I've _learned_ from those mistakes. I know what I did wrong, and you can be damn sure I won't make the same mistakes twice."

At my answer, the department panel murmured amongst themselves.

Behind me, the machine clicked softly.

-----------

"They're not going to contact me, are they?"

"Maxie…"

"I blew it, sis! I BLEW IT!"

I paced back and forth in my room as my sister watched me worriedly from my bed. I think I wore a groove in the floor due to all my pacing, but did I care? Of course not! Who the fuck cared if I fell through the floor? I just wanted my damn certification! I stopped my frantic pacing to stare at my computer screen, hoping to see some good news.

On the top of the e-mail inbox, I read: _You have no new messages_.

I plopped onto the bed, burying my face into my pillows.

The world hates me. We live in a barren universe of nothingness, and I am but a droplet in the bucket of despair.

Olivia sighed, and forced me to sit up as she wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulders. "Oh Maxie," she whispered. "Just be patient. Sometimes it takes a while for the department to make their decision. And with all the people who applied this year, it'll probably take them several more days."

"But it's already been a week!" I cried. "You got your appointment in _three days_!"

"And they were the worst three days of my life," Olivia said, wrapping her arm tighter around me. I gave her a deadpan look, which made her laugh nervously. "Don't worry so much, baby brother! You'll get in! You're a MacTavish!"

"And you're a Biederman," I grumbled, noting the gold wedding band on her left finger. "Don't you have a husband to go home to, or something? You hang around here more than you do at your own house."

"Eh?" Olivia blinked at me, before she shrugged nonchalantly. "That's not _my_ fault. Mark's on a business trip, or something. He's never home anymore, and to be honest…I find him to be a little boring these days." She frowned, and crossed her arms. "I bet he's having an affair. Probably with some beach blond bimbo called _Carol_."

I stared at my sister in shock. "SIS!"

"It's the truth, Maxie. I'm almost positive he's cheating on me. I just need some proof before I up and leave him. Oh, don't look at me like that. Marriage just isn't what it used to be anymore."

"You're making me depressed…"

"Hey!" Olivia protested, holding her hands in the air in defense. "I'm not saying that _you'll_ have a horrible marriage! You're too nice to cheat on a gal with some hussy."

I chuckled. "Heh. _Hussy_."

"Oh, don't laugh at my old words! I'm an old woman now, so get used to it!"

I gave my sister a surprised look. "You're not old, Liv."

She snorted. "Sure I'm not. But thanks anyway."

Suddenly, I heard something from my computer. "_You've got mail!_"

OHMIGODOHMIGODOHMIGODOHMIGOD!

"What're you waiting for?!" Olivia shrieked, pushing my immobile body towards the computer. "Open the e-mail! OPEN IT!"

Right! Check…open…must click! Stupid finger! WHY WON'T YOU CLICK?!

I forced my finger to click the mouse, and I finally managed to open my e-mail box. Come on, certification! Come on, acceptance into the state police academy!

It was an e-mail from Kit.

Silence.

"…should I still open it, Liv?"

"…yeah, Maxie. Kit's your friend, isn't she?"

More silence.

"…maybe later."

"…yeah."

I trudged back to my bed in disgrace, feeling angry at myself and Kit. Why did I get my hopes up? Of course it was too convenient to be true! I'll never get that hyped up over an e-mail again! Bank on it!

"_You've got MORE mail!_"

OHMIGODOHMIGODOHMIGODOHMIGOD!

This time, I nearly dove headfirst into the computer screen in my attempt to rush towards the mouse. My hands fumbled to click on the mail icon, and I nearly exploded with anticipation when I saw that it was indeed from the certification department.

"Go on!" Olivia whispered excitedly. "Open it, damn you! OPEN IT!"

My finger clicked on the mail.

A letter appeared on the screen.

-----------

**Maxwell MacTavish: **

**You have been accepted into the statewide cadet training program.**

**Please click on the attachment below to receive more information on your next course of action.**

** Certification Department**

-----------

I got in.

I GOT IN!

HALLELUJUAH!

"You did it!" Olivia cheered, as we both danced around my room in delight. "You're a cadet now! You're on your way, Maxie! You're on your way! Oh gosh." She stopped doing the Macarena, and turned to me with a grin. "I've got to tell people about this! I've got to tell mom and dad!"

With that, she skipped out of the room, laughing and giggling as she yelled to our parents about my acceptance.

There were two more cheers accompanying Olivia's a second later, and I heard the sound of champagne opening. "This is wonderful!" I heard my father roar. "He's only thirteen, and he's a cadet already! He makes me proud, he does!"

My good mood just plummeted by ten percent. _Oh, dad…_

Oh, wait! Kit's e-mail! I had to tell her about my acceptance! Quickly, I sat down at my desk and opened her message, determined to answer her as quickly as possible.

I wish I hadn't. What she wrote effectively killed all the joy in me.

-----------

**E-mail Sent: September 1, 2007**

**Maxwell,**

**I found out where Seth is. He's still in Bullworth! He's not going to college; he's going to become a police officer, like you! He told me he saw you at the examinations, and he told me that he recently got his certification.**

**Why haven't you told me this? I thought we were friends!**

** Very angry at you but still your loyal friend,**

** Kit**

-----------

**Read and review. Sorry for lameness, but slash will return.**


	5. I'm Cursed, Aren't I?

Disclaimer: Bully is owned by Rockstar.

A/N: You MUST read the prequel, "The Only Answer" before reading this chapter. There are references in this chapter that you will not understand if you haven't read the first fic. It's in my profile, so click and read if you haven't already done so.

Despite what Wikipedia says, MAX is the one who wants to be a police officer! (He also wants to join the army, but I digress.) Edward says nothing about wanting to be a police officer! Stalk them in the game if you have doubts!

Morrison Police Academy is a fictional building. Please do not look for this place, as I made it up and do not wish to be sued by angry police-wannabes. From this point on, my research material is limited. I know some standards of a police academy, and what classes they're supposed to take. I know how a cadet should act, but as to the "who, what, when, where, and how" of the _teaching staff_, I have absolutely no idea what's legal and whatnot. So again, no lawsuits.

**Episode Five: I'm Cursed, Aren't I?**

I did not realize the full brutality of the police application process until I actually researched the data for myself. I suppose you remember the grueling steps I had to take, don't you? In that case, we won't be going over _that _again. But I'll give you the straight facts.

In this year alone, over a thousand people in the state had applied for the police force. After the examinations, approximately two hundred men and women from the entire state had gained the approval of the Certification Department, I myself being one of them.

As for the other eight hundred candidates, they will have to wait until the next examination date to try again.

For those who were accepted, we were now officially new recruits to the police force. However, our hardship had only just begun. We were still only _cadets_, not recognized officers, and thus we were given no badge. To make that final leap towards being a certified police officer, all cadets had to undergo an intense training program to prove that we were worthy of joining the ranks of those who protect and serve.

To do that, we all had to go to Morrison Police Academy.

-----------

The academy system is simple enough to understand, despite being difficult to endure. All cadets have to enroll in a certain amount of courses to earn a certain amount of credit. Once a cadet earns enough credit, he will be able to graduate from the academy, and will officially become an officer of the law.

If unlucky, it could take a cadet several years to pass all of the courses. If lucky, the cadet can graduate in as little as eight months…provided that he doesn't receive any demerits along the way.

Do you know what demerits are? No? Then I'll explain.

If you pass a class, you get a certain number of credits. If you do something bad and you get _caught_, then the instructors will take away some of those credits, and the amount that you lost are called _demerits_.

One is led to believe that as long as he keeps his nose clean, he can graduate in the minimum time of eight months. I was also under this impression…until I was foretold by Olivia that the academy was nothing short of a military prison. Order was first and foremost with the instructors there, and even the tiniest inconvenience could result in a cadet receiving a week's worth of demerits. Olivia told me that she had once received three demerits just for not making her bed properly.

"They're hellhounds in human bodies," she said to me bitterly, a week after I received my acceptance e-mail from the Certification Department. "I forget to tuck in the corners of my blanket just a _little_ bit, and they go all psycho on my ass! That place is like Bullworth Academy, only it's a hundred times worse! It's like the entire teaching staff has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder!"

Needless to say, this didn't bolster my confidence in the slightest.

"Why are you telling me this _now_?" I asked in disbelief. "You're starting to freak me out, Liv!"

"I'm just telling you the truth."

"Then lie to me, woman! LIE! Make me feel _good_ about this, not as if I'm going to have a nervous breakdown!"

Olivia backed off, promising not to terrify me anymore. "Maybe I'm wrong," she said, attempting to be reassuring. "Maybe they've lightened up on the rules a little bit. _Maybe_." I'm torn as to whether or not to believe her. After all, it's been decades since she's been there. Things could have changed, right?

Still…her words stuck in my mind. From that moment until November 31 (the date where I had to show up at the academy), I made it my _duty_ to read the academy codebook until every single rule and regulation was embedded in my memory.

-----------

You must be wondering about my reaction to Kit's e-mail. You know, the one where Seth apparently lost his mind and decided to forsake one of the greatest universities in the world? The one where he's apparently planning on joining the police force alongside me…and whatnot? Yeah. _That_ e-mail. Well, I'll be brutally honest with you.

I am officially scared shitless.

Had this been anyone else from Bullworth Academy, I wouldn't have cared half so much. Hell, had this been anyone else from Bullworth Academy, I wouldn't have cared, _period_. However, this is _Seth Kolbe_ we're talking about. This is the guy whom I have been best friends with since we were seven-years-old. This is the guy who had been known as the "Punishment Prefect" at school. This is the guy who freakin' chased Jimmy Hopkins for FIVE hours, just because the little asshole had thrown itching powder at my face! 

Huh. Was that one of the moments where I should have realized that he cared about me a little too much? How many red flags have I missed?

I'm going off track. Where was I? Oh yeah. Seth and his insanity.

The point is, I know Seth like the back of my own hand. If there's one thing I admire (and possibly now fear) about him, it's that he never gives up until he gets what he wants. And when I say never, I mean _never_.

Of course, I wasn't just afraid for my physical and mental health. I was also severely pissed off at Seth for his lack of judgment. I mean, come on! He gave up M.I.T.? No one in their right mind gives up the chance to go to an Ivy League college! No one! What the hell was he thinking?

As his friend (I still considered myself his friend, sexual discomfort or no), I couldn't let him do this. However, I couldn't find him in person to tell him. From Kit's message, I knew he was in town, but he wasn't in any of the hotels or inns. Before graduation, we all slept at the Bullworth Academy dorms, but as graduates, we were obviously not allowed back on campus.

He must have had some place in Bullworth that I didn't know about…the sneaky bastard! His parents were well-to-do psychiatrists, and they were always sending him money from their office in New York. Buying a house in town wouldn't be too hard for him.

This caused a problem for me, however. I had no idea which house he was in, and it wouldn't do well for me to knock on every door and ask, "Is Seth Kolbe in there? He's a large, muscular, bald-headed guy who has gray eyes and a lot of anger management issues. Oh, and he might be a _tad_ sexually confused. Seen a guy like that anywhere?"

Damn him! He could at least answer his cell phone!

As a last resort, I sent him a few e-mails. Well…I sent him a lot of e-mails. Okay, I _flooded_ him with e-mails. What do you want me to do? I couldn't just let him throw his life away, not for me! And I sure as hell don't want him to hound me for sexual favors for the rest of my life! I LIKE WOMEN!

Anyway, my first hurricane of e-mails had an approach similar to that of a scolding parent. I chose this approach first because I knew that I had to be…_delicate_ with Seth. He wasn't exactly a cool, level-headed fellow, and he tended to be the type to start breaking things when he got offended. Whether those "things" happened to be inanimate objects or other people were of little consequence.

Yeah, I know. But he won't take anger management classes! It's not as if I could just bonk him on the head and drag him off to therapy sessions. He'd flatten me for even suggesting it. Or fuck me. I'm not entirely sure of his mindset towards me right now.

At any rate, I chose my words with great care. I only addressed his decision to forego M.I.T., and completely avoided the topic of…"us." Not that there was an "us," but he might get the wrong idea if he knew that I was still thinking about _that_. Which I'm not.

Really. I'm not.

-----------

**E-mail Sent: September 13, 2007**

**Seth,**

**What's **_**wrong**_** with you?**

**How could you give up M.I.T.? Some people would give up their families to go there! Don't throw this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity out the window, man! Go over there and tell the university staff that you changed your mind, and that you still want to attend M.I.T.! **

**I'm your friend, and I'm telling you to accept! Accept, damn you! ACCEPT!**

**Max**

-----------

He never answered back. Jerk.

I waited two weeks for his response, you know. You'd think the least he could do was reply in _some_ way, instead of letting me sit in front of my computer like a goddamn idiot! The asshole! I can't understand why I became friends with him in the first place!

Oh, wait. He saved me from a Bully. He used to be nice and caring. It's all coming back to me now. Oh Seth…!

Sorry. Memories.

In light of his lack of response, I decided to abandon the parental approach for a more casual, familiar style. I still avoided the issue between him and me. Hopefully he'll understand and appreciate the level of maturity I've shown him so far, and we can move on with our lives.

-----------

**E-mail Sent: September 27, 2007**

**Seth, you bastard!**

**You could have at least answered **_**one**_** of my damn messages! You think I enjoy sitting in front of my computer all day, waiting for you to reply? Do you think I enjoy looking for you all over town, wondering which house you're in? Why do you have to be such a selfish jerk, huh?**

**I say that with love, of course. **_**Platonic**_** love. This is not sexual love in the slightest.**

**GO TO M.I.T.! Go and get your university degree! Seth, you're way too smart to waste your talents in a simple police force! Didn't we talk about this when we were little? You're supposed to be the one who invents new weapons for the Army! You're the one who's supposed to create a new training simulation for the fucking Marines! **

**YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE THE NEXT BILL GATES IN THE COMPUTER INDUSTRY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?**

**Don't do this. You have too much potential and intelligence! Don't do this, for the love of god!**

**Max **

-----------

Seth never replied to the causal e-mails either.

As I got ready to leave for Morrison Police Academy, I gave up formalities and niceties altogether. Forget avoiding the issue any longer; it's because of me that he's ruining his life, and I had to fix this horrible mistake.

In my last tornado of e-mails, I flat out insulted Seth, heavily criticizing his foolish decision to come after me. I called him every derogatory name I could think of, ranging from "idiot" to "fag" to "stupid son-of-a-bitch."

I hoped that he would get angry enough at me to abandon his pursuit of…of…whatever it was he wanted to do with me. I'm trying not to think _that_ far, okay? If I do, I'll end up getting nightmares and really wet bed sheets, none of which I want!

By the way, the sample e-mail below is_ heavily _edited. If I used the real one, it would be over twenty pages long…and I'm sure you don't want to read all that, do you?

-----------

**E-mail Sent: October 31, 2007**

**You stupid son-of-a-bitch!**

**Are you laughing at me, or something? Do you think this is **_**funny**_**, you damn asshole? Why aren't you fucking answering any of my messages?**

**You fucking—(edited)**

**I outta kick your pathetic—(edited)**

**If you think you can somehow magically get me to fall in love with you, then forget it! It's never going to happen! I'm not a fag, okay? I LIKE WOMEN! You're wasting your fucking time!**

**I am not going to—(edited)**

**You think I enjoyed any of that shit? You're crazy if you think that I'd ever—(edited)**

**What do I have to do to get through your thick head, eh? You're a (edited)**

**What happened on the boat was a mistake! I told you, we're both men! It can't work! I don't care if we were both horny. It was something that never should have happened, and if you think otherwise, you're an idiot!**

**Just go to college, Seth. Seriously, I don't want to see your face at Morrison.**

**Max**

-----------

He replied to _this _one, I'll have you know. He sent it the night before I left for Morrison Police Academy.

-----------

**E-mail Sent: November 30, 2007**

**Hey Max,**

**You swear too much.**

**Seth**

-----------

…

…wow.

His e-mail's strange passivity scared me. Either he wasn't taking me seriously at all, or he was _really_ pissed at me, and was planning to jump me on sight.

Maybe I can try to figure out what he'll do from his past history? What would he do if someone else had insulted him like that?

…

It's official. I'm doomed.

Maybe if I sleep on it, I'll wake up and find out that this is all a bad dream.

I have to get some sleep anyway. I have to show up at Morrison tomorrow at…seven in the evening.

-----------

Despite the fact that the small auditorium of Morrison Police Academy was crowded and almost filled to its maximum capacity, I easily spotted David in the midst of hundreds of cadets.

It was actually hard to miss him. The kid stuck out like a sore thumb; he was the only person who was bouncing up and down in his seat like some kind of overexcited kid in a candy shop. The other cadets were sitting quietly in their seats, occasionally throwing a cold glare at David that no doubt said, _Hey kid! Shut the fuck up!_

David was oblivious to the stares. His bounces and overexcitement reined on.

He quickly spotted me, and gave me a grin the size of Oklahoma. He waved at me frantically and gestured for me to sit next to him, all the while yelling, "Sir! Over here! I saved you a seat!"

_Yes_, I thought bitterly. _Scream a little louder, kid. Alert the whole academy to my presence. I don't think they heard you in China!_

I pulled my black cap over my eyes, and tried to make myself inconspicuous as I quietly made my way towards David. Once reaching my seat, I quickly plopped down and shrank as far back as I could into the blue velvet, attempting and failing to block out the whispers of the other cadets.

_Whisper, whisper, whisper…_

Well, things were off to a _great_ start, don't you agree? I'm being sarcastic, if you couldn't tell.

_Whisper, whisper, whisper…_

Stupid whispering.

Can you believe that David was immune to all the whispering around us? He's still bouncing around in his damn seat! He's like some eternally happy child, one who's unaware of any and all evils in the world. Is any person—any _sane_ person—really that happy?

"Well, sir!" David chirped, unaware of my increasing distress. "Did you get your room assignment yet? What room did you get? Oh, and what about your class schedule? I have Schedule A…what about you?"

"My room is 527A," I mumbled softly, my cap still pulled over my eyes. "It's in the East Wing. As for my classes, I have Schedule B." _And thank god for that_, I thought privately. Not that I hated the kid or anything, but I liked him a lot better when he was shy and timid. It really was annoying when one couldn't hear his own thoughts due to his friend constantly yapping away. This chirpy, chatterbox version was less attractive to me.

And I don't mean "attractive" in the sexual sense, you perverts! I meant as a person in general!

"Oh…" I heard a faint trace of disappointment in the kid's voice. "That means we only have one class together."

"And what's that?" _Please don't be an important class. Please don't be an important class…_

"Juvenile Law," David replied.

An important class. Of course. Though I smiled to David's face, I inwardly groaned and unconsciously sank even lower in my seat, pulling at my cap so much that my entire face was hidden from view.

I suddenly heard a voice from the stage of the auditorium. Ugh. Sounded like an old man who's just about to die. I hope he doesn't die before I graduate! Teacher changes in the middle of the year are bad. BAD, I SAY!

"Good morning, cadets," the old man began, before he was struck with a coughing fit. Damn it, it sounds like he might die in the next ten minutes. "I'm—I'm Lou Beatty!" the old man finally wheezed out, after his coughing bout ended. "I am the head of Morrison Academy, and I, along with my teaching staff, will do our very best to insure that you all receive a proper training!" Another fit of coughing. Some people just groaned. Did the old man spit up or something?

Great. A chatterbox next to me, and a headmaster who might die any minute. Well…at least things couldn't get worse, right?

And then, I heard it. That _voice_. That nasal, horribly familiar, disturbingly comfortable voice. "Max! Hey, Max!"

Oh no.

Seth?!

-----------

I have a complicated, screwed up friendship with Seth Kolbe.

What we have between us is more than a basic "best friend" bond. However, it's not something that's easy to explain either, though I _will _try. I don't know…it's more than the fact that we've known each other for over ten years. If our relationship stemmed on that bit of information alone, we would have drifted apart ages ago.

I'll admit we're not the perfect duo. We've had arguments. We've had periods where we wouldn't speak to one another. Seth isn't an easy person to get along with, and there were moments where he would push my patience to its limits, almost making me want to abandon him completely.

Thankfully, I've always had _much_ more tolerance than he did.

I guess that's why we've been friends all these years. My tolerance. My constantly apologizing for things I shouldn't be apologizing for. My constantly forgiving him, despite the ugly bitterness and anger that dwelled deep within him.

He had made some stupid mistakes in the past, but I had always been there to help him, or clean up his messes after him. He knew that I was always there for him, even during the times where he didn't want my help, and he's developed a sort of dependency on that

It's like when we were twelve. After his fight with Rudy Mason, the former Bully leader. That was the period where he considered me to be too wimpy to be a real friend, that I was a weakling who only needed to be protected by him. Despite his harsh words, I stuck by him, injecting illegal hormones into my body so that I could gain strength alongside him, to show him that there wasn't anything I wasn't willing to do for him, that I wanted more than anything to remain by his side.

It took him two years to realize this, and it took a brutal fight between us for him to finally accept that I was serious.

Our last year at Bullworth was the hardest for me, however. It was during that year where his anger issues became slightly out of control, especially due to the authority he had been given as a prefect. Seth had never exactly been liked by the younger students of the academy, but when he became a prefect, that dislike turned into downright hatred.

Now, all of the prefects (including myself) were smart _and_ strong, but Seth was the smartest and strongest of the bunch, and he was the one who caught most of the troublemakers. However, he always had a rather…brutal approach to catching the scuzzbuckets. Instead of simply subduing them, he would go fist-to-fist with them, almost pounding the living daylights out of the "evildoers" before he'd stop and drag their half-conscious bodies to Crabblesnitch's office.

That was the part that bothered me the most. The beatings he'd dish out. He was intelligent, no denying that, but he wasn't exactly one who could rationally deal with anger.

I tried confronting him about this once, on Halloween night during our last year at Bullworth. It didn't end well—he told me rather rudely to shut up and to mind my own business, which resulted in me not talking to him for ten days. You know, he seemed a little upset about that at first, but then he started looking for ways to go around my silent treatment without actually having to apologize to me.

Those were some of the rare moments where I hated the fact that he was once a Nerd.

One of his attempts was where he took all of the toilet paper out of the Boys' bathroom stalls, and left me trapped on the toilet with a very dirty heiny. For an hour, he yelled at me (outside my stall) that he'd give me the TP only if I asked him nicely for it, and started talking to him like a normal human being again. I gave him no response, and I remember his loud grumbles of frustration as he left the bathroom.

Thankfully, Jimmy Hopkins came by, and I managed to convince the little snot to get me some toilet paper for a couple of bucks.

My silent treatment didn't last much longer after that, unfortunately. With Seth, my willpower is equivalent to that of chocolate pudding. On day eleven, I grew frustrated with the silence and apologized to Seth for my cold treatment. He took the apology with a look of smugness of his face. Then he gave me a noogie.

Bastard.

But it wasn't his fault.

It wasn't his fault.

It WASN'T his fault!

You want to know why Seth is such a jerk? It's that damn asshole, Rudy Mason! If it hadn't been for that pervert Bully, that stupid motherfucker, Seth wouldn't be so—

I'm sorry. I should have more self control than this. I hate being such an emotional prick.

What I'm trying to say is that in the end, we really had only each other to depend on. Seth and me, I mean. Forget about Edward and Karl. Forget the fact that Seth is a stubborn jackass at times. Forget the fact that I probably enable his insanity. The two of us have something…unique in our friendship. Heck, I'm not sure if I have any other friends who are as close to me as Seth is. Even Kit doesn't know me as much as she thinks she does.

Don't think I'm gay. I'm _not_. But I'm not sure what's happening between me and Seth. It's most likely fucked up, whatever our relationship is becoming, but it's obvious to me that Seth isn't eager to let me go.

I don't know what to think. I don't want to lose him, but I'm fucking scared of what might happen if I let him do what he wants.

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But let's forget about the complicated, screwed up friendship for a moment, okay? Right now, I really want to avoid the disaster that is speeding towards me.

"Captain Beatty!" I suddenly heard gasping, followed by the rushed footsteps of people dashing towards the stage. Huh. Did the old man croak? Oh, who cares? I have my own problems!

If you've forgotten, I'm at Morrison. I've just heard Seth's voice call out my name a few seconds ago. I'm freaked out of my mind.

Maybe I'm just overreacting. Maybe it was some other guy with a nasal voice that coincidentally sounded like Seth's. Maybe it was some other Max the guy was calling for. Max was a common name, after all. And anyway, my face was covered by my cap. No one could recognize me if they just strolled in right this minute…

I heard a soft thump in the empty seat next to mine, but I thought nothing of it. Another cadet, another face in the crowd, just as long as it's not the face I'm thinking of! Anything but _his _face, please!

I yelped when I felt a large hand touch the top of my head, the fingers gently grasping at the back of my cap and pulling it up until my face was uncovered. "You know you look stupid like that, don't you?" a too-familiar voice said to me quietly.

Well. I'm officially fucked. 

I turned my gaze slowly to the side, until a pair of pale gray eyes met mine. "Hey Seth," I greeted softly, as Seth gave me a small smile. "H-how are you?"

"Oh, I'm alright," he answered back, the smile never leaving his face. "I received a lot of interesting _e-mails_ over the last few months, but other than that, my break was a bit boring."

A nervous laugh forced its way out of my mouth. "Lack of evildoers bringing you down?"

"More or less," Seth answered, chuckling lightheartedly. Too lightheartedly. "How's Olivia?" 

"She's fine. Your parents?"

"They're okay. They completely forgot about my existence until I e-mailed them after graduation, but they're okay." Seth turned his gaze to the stage, and let out a low whistle. "Looks like the speech is going to end early. They're taking Beatty out on a stretcher."

"Oh. That's…huh. I don't really know what to say to that." God, this conversation sounded so…fake! And from the way Seth is smiling, he knows it's fake too. The bastard! He's just trying to make me sweat! Well he won't see me sweat! HE WON'T!

A bead of sweat slowly rolled down my face. Goddamn it!

Seth suddenly touched my arm, and I visibly flinched. I locked eyes with Seth once more and gave him a pleading, desperate look as his fingers brushed gently against my skin. _Don't touch me_, I begged in my head. _For the love of god, Seth. Please don't._

I was trying my hardest to remain calm, but I felt a sliver of fear inside me that shook me to my very core. Seth's eyes narrowed slightly and his lips thinned—he understood the look I was giving him. We did that sometimes, communicating without speaking. And right now, I could tell from his face that he didn't like what I was telling him.

His grip on my arm tightened. _I'll do whatever I fucking want with you_, his eyes shot back. The pale gray was angry and clouded, like the beginnings of a fierce storm. _We have unfinished business, or did you forget?_

"Sir!" An overly cheerful voice broke through the tension, and for once I was glad to have the chatterbox David at my side. Yanking my arm out of Seth's grasp, I quickly turned away from my insane friend and focused on David, who was giving me a cheery grin as his black eyes darted from me to Seth. "Is he your friend, sir?" he asked, blissfully oblivious to the uncomfortable atmosphere that had loomed not ten seconds ago.

His freakish happiness actually calmed me down. Can you believe it? His annoying cheerfulness relaxed me! You know, I think I might like this kid after all.

"Of course I'm his friend!" Seth suddenly said, before I could give my reply. "I'm his _best _friend! Seth Kolbe, nice to meet you." He stuck out his hand.

David's grin widened, and he took Seth's offered hand. "David Palter. A pleasure, sir."

…okay. This is strange.

I threw a quick glance at Seth, and I was surprised to see that his angry look had become one of faux pleasantness. I can tell it was a fake look—Seth's eyes were still narrowed, and his smile was a little too forced. Oh god, I hope he's not planning on murdering David for interrupting!

A blonde woman dressed in a police uniform suddenly took the stage, and she gave us all an apologetic look. "We're sorry," she said, "but Captain Beatty is being transported to the local hospital at this moment. We will continue orientation tomorrow morning, but for now, please report to your assigned dorm rooms."

"Ooooh," David moaned. "I really wanted to know about weekend leaves!"

"They'll tell us tomorrow," I said reassuringly, patting David on the head. The kid gave me a smile, and I felt a grin of my own creep past my lips. Smiles are contagious.

Then, I felt a wave of anger hit me from behind, and I felt the blood drain from my face. Unfortunately, bad moods were contagious too.

"Say, Mr. Seth!" David said, cocking his head at my ill-tempered friend…who still had that forced smile on his face. Oh lord. "What's your room number? Mine's 514B."

I swear I saw Seth's eye twitch. He didn't like the happy, perky types, and I was ninety percent sure that if I hadn't sat in between them, Seth would have punched the kid until he ran off, screaming. Thankfully, I saw him grit his teeth and grin through his dislike. "Room 527A," Seth replied a little too cheerfully, checking his assignment card. "East Wing. Don't know who I'm rooming with, though…"

Wait a minute. Did he just say…aha, I must have heard him wrong! That's it! I heard him wrong! There's no way he could have the same room as me! There's only two to a room, and that would mean that I have to spend eight months sharing a room with Seth!

All alone. In the dark of night. While I'm asleep. And vulnerable.

I'm not THAT cursed, am I? AM I?!

"Hey!" David exclaimed, turning to me with a cheerful grin. "That's the room you have, Max sir! Isn't that a coincidence? A stroke of luck, really!"

"Yeah," Seth agreed, giving me a grin that made me _very_ uncomfortable. "What a stroke of luck."

…well, I'm off to go kill myself now. 

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